Project: Wagner
by Kiki Cabou
Summary: More Kurt than you can shake a stick at! This now completed collection centers around everyone's favorite fuzzy dude, who is a most entertaining work in progress.
1. Introduction

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Realizing this makes me sad.   
  
Summary: A collection of brief pieces featuring everyone's favorite fur ball.  
  
Rating: basically PG-13.   
  
Category: Is "Kurt" a category?  
  
Notes: I love Kurt to death, (frankly he's the reason I watch X-Men Evo) but I was very disappointed by his behavior in "Mainstream." I wanted to do something about it. That spawned this entire thing, which got longer and longer as I got more ideas, more reviews, and more ideas from reviews.  
  
So sit back and relax.  

This is…

  
=== PROJECT: WAGNER. ===

Introduction

Hi!  *wave!*  My name is Kiki, and I've been writing stories for longer than I care to say.  I don't write because I want to --- I write because I have to.  My mind is stuffed full of wonderful imaginary people (created by other people) who refuse to leave me alone, so I give them plots to keep them occupied.  Fox Mulder and the X-Files crew are rattling around somewhere in my brain, as are ingenious, mind-grabbing creations like Samurai Jack.  I have also recently re-discovered the X-Men.  "Evolution" caught my eye, made me smile, and brought the fuzzy one back into my life.  And thus, "Project: Wagner" is here.

If you are just browsing through this collection and are looking for a specific kind of story to read, the table of contents below should be of some help.  

Table of Contents

1. **Dark Night of the Soul**: Quasi-Drama, pretty sweet

2. **The Spurt**: Basically Funny, also sweet

3. **He Ain't Heavy**: Drama, Rogue has a big part

4. **Red Hot**: Farce, Jott

5. **Spontaneous Combustion**: Comedy, vignette-ish

6. **Platform 3**: Drama, momma angst

7. **The Alien Down the Hall**: Comedy, cutesie-poo "missing scene"

8. **Bumpity****, Bumpity, Bumpity, Splat!:** Slapstick, "missing scene"

9. **Floating Like a Wafer**: Comedy, Romance (hint of Kurtty, basically Jott)

10. **Hop**: Drama, some gore

11. **Princess**: Humor within a Drama

12. **Three Drabbles**: Humor, all include Kitty for some reason

13. **Push**: Drama, Rogue has a big part

14. **The Kiss**: Romantic Comedy, also a Kurtty, depending on how you look at it

15. **X-Pletive Deleted**: Parody, or more accurately a "Genredy."  If you're feeling tired, cranky, unobservant, and/or mentally unstable, please don't read this one.

16. **Flambé Bleu**: Slapstick

17. **I Vant to Direct**: Comedy.  Kurt is, after all, a born performer, and comedy is what he does best.  This is a multiple-part, loopy extravaganza.  Cast of thousands!  

Have fun, folks, and if you have something to say, please review or e-mail me.  Thanks for reading!

Best wishes,

_Kiki__ Cabou_

2004


	2. Dark Night of the Soul

This is an epilogue to "Mainstream." It's probably been done, but I wouldn't know, so please excuse in advance.  
  
SPOILERS AHEAD, obviously. Beware.  
  
Summary: A conversation between Kurt and Kitty leads to something unexpected. NOT KURTTY!!!  
  
=== DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL ===  
  
After Professor Xavier had made his announcement that the school board had voted to let mutants back into Bayville High, and Jean had succinctly informed him that his announcement was of the "good news, bad news" variety, everyone had muttered goodnight and tromped off to bed.  
  
In one of the boxy, gray cubicles in the underground sleeping area, Scott was asleep, and snoring away loudly. He had the bottom bunk. Kurt, lying fully awake on the top bunk and plugging his elvish ears, was tempted to smother his roommate with a pillow. He opted instead for 'porting out of cubicle and into the kitchen.  
  
He appeared on the metal table in his pajamas, and shielded his pale yellow eyes from the stark light of the overhead lamp. He crouched there, alone in the empty room. The lamp cast deep shadows on him, making his blue- black hair glitter and bringing every plane of his face into stark relief.  
  
If he was honest with himself, Scott's snoring wasn't the thing keeping him awake. The way he'd acted that day at school was nagging at him like a hangnail, or a loose thread on a nice sweater. He hopped nimbly off the table, and began to pad back and forth across the room on his big furry feet.  
  
He paced and thought, and thought and paced. The minutes wore on, and he kept clomping across the room, trying to figure himself out --- an difficult task to begin with, and a nearly impossible one this late at night. Finally, at 1:30, he sat down at the kitchen table and sighed, coming to a terrible realization.  
  
He was a coward.  
  
That was the only thing he could think of. He was just . . . bad. Useless. Evil. Absently, he scratched at an itch on his fuzzy cheek and wondered why he hadn't seen this sooner. Very slowly, he let his head sink down into the crook of his arms. His arrow-tipped tail kept twitching for a while, but then it too succumbed to his shame and began to droop.  
  
That was how Kitty found him at 2 in the morning, when she came in to get a snack. Too nervous to sleep, she phased through the wall, and squinted into the light. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she saw a familiar blue person sitting in a chair, curled over the table, his hair flopping every which-way and his tail practically hanging off his ass. She didn't know what to make of it.  
  
So she grabbed two glasses, the carton of milk, and some leftover banana bread, and set them down on the table.  
  
"Hey," she said, shaking his shoulder.  
  
Kurt came awake, sat back in his chair, and blinked at her. "Ah? Oh. Keety. Hi."  
  
"Hi. Are you okay?" she said, sitting down across from him.  
  
Kurt paused, slapped a little smile on, and said, "Ja. Fine."  
  
"You don't look fine," Kitty said, breaking off a hunk of banana bread. "What's wrong?"  
  
Kurt was caught. On the one hand, he hated that he was so bad at hiding things. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he could talk about this with Kitty.  
  
Kitty was still staring at him, stuffing her mouth with banana bread and raising her eyebrows like she expected an answer. Kurt was too tired to fight off her glance.  
  
He let it rip.  
  
"Vhy are you even talking to me?" he said, quietly. "I vas horrible to you today."  
  
Kitty blinked at him, one of her cheeks pooched out with banana bread. "Kah, nah yih fkarring mee."  
  
Kurt raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Vhat?"  
  
Kitty swallowed, and took another piece. "You're scaring me, Kurt. You weren't horrible."  
  
"Sure I vas. I pretended I didn't know any of you," he said, and angrily grabbed a fistful of the sweet bread. "Vhen da crisis came, vhen it came time to be brave and show myself, and stand wit all of you, I cheekened out. I ran away. Pretended I vasn't part of here, that you veren't my friends. I'm jast yellow --- dat's awl."  
  
They sat in silence for a while. Kurt shoved the entire ball of bread into his mouth and started munching on it, crossing his arms angrily and staring at the table top. His tail began to twitch again. Kitty chewed and swallowed, mulling everything over.  
  
"First of all," she said finally, pouring out two glasses of milk, "You're blue, not yellow."  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes.  
  
"And secondly, yeah, I was kinda mad at you, but like . . ." she sighed. "Okay, I mean this in the nicest possible way, but you're like, a total freak."  
  
She said this so seriously that Kurt started laughing. That got Kitty giggling, too.  
  
"I mean, don't get me wrong. You're great, and we all like you, and I know *Amanda* likes you," she sing-songed, "But you have so much crap to deal with that we just TOTALLY don't. I don't blame you for wanting to hide."  
  
"Ja, but I deed."  
  
"I'm not done yet. You have to stop all this. All this fear and 'oh my god, here they come with the pitchforks,' that whole deal. You gotta just bust out, Kurt, and like, the hell with it. Ya know?"  
  
Kurt laughed. "I don't theenk 'busting out' is deh technical term." He grabbed a glass of milk and drained half of it.  
  
"But you know what I mean."  
  
"Mm."  
  
"I mean, I'm totally as freaked as you are about going back to school tomorrow. God, I so do not wanna face Lance. That's gonna suck!"  
  
"Is dat vhy you're up?"  
  
"Kurt, I called him a 'hood.' I totally insulted him. And knowing the Boneheads, somebody's gonna wanna get back at me," she sighed, ruffling her hair. "I'm just really nervous." She took a swig of milk and stared at the loaf pan. "Okay, if you don't stop me, I'm totally going to eat all this banana bread."  
  
Kurt pulled it away from her.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"You're velcome. You know, ah, at school tomorrow I can, ah, valk in wit you, if you like. So you don't have to talk to him."  
  
She smiled at him. "I'd like that."  
  
He nodded at her. They both got up and put the food away, and found themselves facing each other in the doorway.  
  
"I'm sorry I vas such a jerk."  
  
"It's okay," she said, and they hugged each other tight. "I know it's tough, but just try not to be so afraid. I think people might actually like the real you. Heck, *I* do."  
  
She phased out of his friendly grip, and with a little wave, disappeared into the wall. Kurt stared after her, lost in thought, and 'ported back to bed.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXX  
  
The next morning, everyone was up at 6 a.m. It was out of habit. They couldn't have any sessions in the Danger Room today. Bombed-out shells weren't useful practice areas, and in any case, the danger of sleep- deprived mutants causing a small avalanche and getting killed by big pieces of rock and metal was way too real.  
  
The breakfast table was deathly silent. Everyone was nervous, thinking their own thoughts, except Evan, who was digging around in the refrigerator.  
  
"Hey! Who ate all the banana bread?" he said, annoyed.  
  
"We could possibly get killed in the halls today, Evan. Banana bread isn't even on the radar," Scott snapped at him.  
  
"Keety and I got hungry last night," Kurt said, in an effort to stop the fight. "Sorry."  
  
Both Scott and Evan glared at him, but he knew it wasn't about the food. He looked glumly down at his cereal and didn't say anything else. Kitty, who was sitting next to him, flushed in embarrassment.  
  
The car ride to school was equally silent. Professor Xavier gave them all a lift in a rented van. All the cars in the garage had exploded in one fell swoop when DEFCON 4 engaged.  
  
"Have a good day, everybody," he said, pulling up in front. "I'll be here at three."  
  
"Thanks, Professor," Scott said. "C'mon, people. Move out."  
  
Everyone stood up and filed out of the van, heading up the front steps. There were stares, and the other students began to close in on them. The Professor stayed parked for a moment, just in case.  
  
One particularly lunkheaded individual sauntered over to Kurt, who was in the back with Kitty. He grabbed Kurt's backpack, swinging the kid around to face him, and snarled in his face.  
  
"Hey! Kraut! I didn't know you associated with these freaks! What the hell's wrong with YOU?!"  
  
The rest of the team stopped and turned on the situation. Kurt shook the guy's hand off. But instead of looking around in fear and running, he just gazed at the kid calmly. With a soft grin, he reached for his watch.  
  
"Zerr is nutting wrong wit me."  
  
*CLICK*  
  
The image of the short, meek, tousle-haired kid faded away, leaving a blue, fanged, wild thing in its wake. It wore beige cargo pants, a white tank top, and an open, red flannel shirt. Dressed like this and perched proudly on his two-toed, gargoyle-like feet, Kurt was something else. His tail, sticking out through a neat hole in his pants, energetically whipped back and forth.  
  
"Nutting at awl."  
  
The bully screamed like a girl and promptly fainted. A bunch of his friends, caught between laughing at him and running for their lives, opted for the latter, and took off. Kurt smiled proudly and walked over to Kitty, who was staring at him, her mouth hanging open. She snapped out of it and smiled. He gallantly offered her his elbow. She laughed and took his arm, passing Lance and sticking her tongue out at him. She heard a growl and felt a tiny tremor, but she didn't care. He really was just a hood.  
  
Kurt walked Kitty to her first class, then wandered off in the direction of Algebra, watching with a mixture of amusement and annoyance as people kept about a three foot distance from him in all directions. Finally he stopped and turned on the crowd. It was mostly girls. They stood there, staring at him, silent.  
  
"Shoo!" he said, waving his arms at them. They scattered briefly, but then pressed forward again. Kurt was getting exasperated.  
  
"Mein Gott. Vas de matta, you vanna pet me or someting?" he said, putting his hands on his hips.  
  
"Any of you says yes and you'll have a lot of trouble. Real quick," came a strong voice behind him.  
  
He turned around and stared in surprise.  
  
"The fuzzy dude is with ME," Amanda finished, and smiled.  
  
The crowd dispersed in two seconds.  
  
Kurt gave her an incredibly goofy grin, and she gave him a thousand-watt smile in return. They walked off to class, arm in arm.  
  
THE END  
  
Author's Note: One thing in this deviates from "The Canon." The fact that the Professor drops everybody off at school is directly contradictory to the scene in, I think it was "The Stuff of Villains," when Scott gives everyone a ride to school in his car and Kitty loses her toothbrush in Beast. That was funny! Anyway, my thingie is incorrect, but I figured, why post that in the middle of the story and ruin the flow?  
  
Whatever you have to say about this, go for it. Good stuff, I like. Bad stuff, I can take. Believe me. :D  
  
Ta,  
  
Kiki 


	3. The Spurt

~ Author's Note ~  
  


I just found out that short stories like this are called "one-shots." Well, I love the one-shot format, because you can include all sorts of different "universes." This next universe features Kurt and Kitty, because I personally love that pair, even if it's just platonic, and some folks who reviewed said they like it, too.  
  


To the wonderful people who have reviewed so far: Jaganashi, key, the person without a bug collection, ZOTRM, The Logic of Nine, and wllw979 --- thank you all!  
  


Zoken: Yes, Kraut was intentional. I didn't x-pect anyone to catch that. Good on you! :D  
  


Neko-Chan: Thanks for the Kitty praise. I love writing that character. She's hilarious. By the way, I'm a big fan of "Carol of the Bells" --- I just haven't reviewed yet. But I will! Promise!  
  


Wydinel Sheergale: Of course there will be more! It's coming right now.  
  


Rhona: *blushes* Thankies. BTW --- I know you're not a Kurtty fan. This next one has her in it, but just as a friend. Hope that's okay.  
  


I must say, I can't wait to write more of this for all you great people . . . with one unfortunate exception, which really made me upset.  
  


I just want to get this out of the way right now. Constructive criticism is great, but flaming is just bad and wrong and evil, and I refuse to put up with it. I assure you all that I'm not a horrible person. However, like the U.S. government and terrorists, I do not negotiate.  
  


To that end, I am about to make an example of someone. Here is a flame, from one reader with the screen name of Molly Broad.  
  


_~ Right, no affence on your story or anything, but wats up with u? R u totally against Nightcrawler or something? Wats all this TOTAL FREAK and MEEK,UGLY,SKINNY MOUSE BOY shit all about? Nightcrawler/Kurt is a gorgeous, strong, awesome, young, cute guy! Not a meek, measliy, puny, mouse freak who always gets beaten up! He is 1 of the X-men and all the X-men are his best buddies! Shadowcat is his girlfriend-NOT HIS ENEMY! Please-stop making it look like Nightcrawler is a freak who has no friends and he always gets beaten up like some geek! Hes not sum goofy freako-hes the most cool guy in the history of X-MEN! ~_  
  


Did you get through all that gibberish? Good for you. Here is my response.  
  


~ Molly Broad. You can take your misspelled, misguided comments, which only show how badly you have misinterpreted "Dark Night of the Soul," and blow them out your ass. You're just a goddamn moron. Don't come back this way again. ~  
  


To any potential flamers: If you verbally abuse me, I will return the favor. I am not afraid of you.  
  


To readers: Sorry, everybody. I know that was messy, but nobody should have to put up with this garbage. Please enjoy the next story.  
  


Summary: Pain in the night leads to a blossoming, of sorts. 

Warning: Thar be one cuss word in this.  Begins with "s."  I think you can guess it.

=== THE SPURT ===

Kitty was thirsty again.  It was the third time this week she'd gotten outrageously thirsty at three in the morning.  With a sigh, she flapped back the covers and hoisted herself off the pillow.  When miasma of sitting up finally abated, she hopped off the bed and stumbled out of the room she shared with Rogue.

It would have occurred to any sensible person by now that keeping a glass of water on their bedside table would save a walk to the kitchen.  But Kitty liked her water ice cold, and only the fridge's filtered tap would do.  Yawning and rubbing her eyes, she trudged down the hallway, her bunny slippers making little squeaks every time her feet hit the floor.  

She was almost at the kitchen, passing Kurt's room on the right, when she heard it.

"Ooooooooooh."

She stopped and stared at the door.  

"Ooooooooooh," came the noise again.

"What is that?  Like, the wind?" she wondered aloud.

"Ooooooh!  Ach!  SHHHIT!" 

Kitty's eyebrows went up.  That was definitely not the wind.  She phased in through the door, her thirst forgotten for a moment, and let her eyes adjust to the dark bedroom.  The pale moonlight was stabbing in through the window, illuminating a squirming lump of covers in middle of the bed.

She tiptoed toward the dancing fabric, wondering what in the world was going on, when the blankets went flying.  

Kurt wore nothing but sweatpants and a tank top.  He was lying on his side, panting.  Quick as a whip, he curled his legs to his chest, gripped his knees tightly and let loose a string of very colorful German words.

Kitty watched as he panted and sweated, the tendons in his furry arms bulging and receding as he rode out a wave of intense pain.  Clueless but concerned, she stepped into the moonlight and looked down at him.  She hoped he would open his big yellow eyes and see her.  No such luck --- they were screwed shut.

She didn't know what to do.  It was a little scary, frankly.  He wasn't even moving now, just working his jaw and moaning.  Biting her lip, she came to a decision.  Very gingerly, she reached down and touched his shoulder.  He stopped muttering.  

His eyes opened at once, very wide, and he stared at her, breathing hard.  A tear escaped and ran down his cheek.  They both ignored it, mostly because Kurt looked more baffled than anything else.

"Keety?" he panted.  "Vas…"

"Kurt, I was going to get some water and I heard you.  What's wrong?"

Kurt panted some more, then tried to explain.  He had to stop and breathe every couple of words.

"Vell… it hurts."

Kitty snorted.  "Like, duh!  Where?"

"Oh, you know."  He panted a bit.  "Everyvere.  Mein legs.  But zee arms aren't… doing so good either.  And my back.  Shoulders.  Tushie.  It really sucks."

Kitty smiled.  "Did you just say 'tushie?'"

Kurt gave her what could only be described as a long-suffering, 'how could you?' look.  Her smile faded.

"I'm sorry, Kurt.  Well, listen.  Let me get you some aspirin or something."

"Nein, Keety, don't do it."

Kitty sat down next to him.  "Why not?  You're in pain."

"Ja, but… remember two months ago?  Ven I had dat headache?"

"Oh," she said, her eyes getting wide.

She remembered that very well.  It was Finals Week, and Kurt understandably had something approaching a migraine.  The professor gave him two pills.  He read the label on the bottle: "may cause drowsiness."  Deluding himself into thinking he had a normal body chemistry, he shrugged and took them.  

He didn't wake up for three days.  

By the time he did wake up, he'd missed his last two tests.  The professor got his teachers to allow him to come to school on Saturday and make them up, but the delay made him miss his flight home.  He ended up with an insane travel plan, a patchwork of three different airlines and two train rides --- six stopovers in all.

And the effects of the medication had scared the bejeezus out of everybody.  That was of course, except for Evan.  As soon as he realized "the fuzzy one" was just asleep and not in a coma, he threw Kurt over his shoulders like a bearskin and skateboarded around the mansion announcing that he was Conan the Barbarian until Scott stopped him.  

Oh yes, Kitty remembered that.

But she was at a loss as to what to do.  Kurt turned away from her and tried to contain his writhing.  He was lousy at hiding it.  A little moan slipped out.  Kitty felt something tweak in her chest and she frowned.  This was just horrible. 

"You poor guy," she said, rubbing his arm gently.

And then something bizarre happened.  His tail stopped twitching erratically.  Intrigued, Kitty rubbed further down his arm.  Kurt rolled over onto his back, blinking up at her.  The moonlight hitting his eyes made them look like white lanterns.

"Zat feels good," he said sincerely.  "You know vhat I sink this is?"

"What?" she asked.

"Growing pains.  Ven I vas nine, I had zem in my legs.  Mama rubbed zem for me, and the pain vent avay."

Kitty looked at him, saw the silent plea in his glowing eyes, and kept going.  She rubbed his shoulders, his other arm, and his legs.  Then she helped him flop onto his side again so she could reach his back.  About halfway down, she realized she was sweating with the effort, and that her charge was emitting a soft noise, almost like a purr.  He was grateful, and she could tell.

She was not, however, going to touch his 'tushie.'  Kurt's tail seemed rather disappointed by this, but the rest of him looked content and relaxed.  She got him on his back again and he blinked up at her lazily, with a sleepy smile.

"Tank you, Keety," he mumbled, and promptly fell asleep.

"You're velcome," she said with a grin, pulling the covers up to his furry jaw.  

XXXXXXXXXXX

The agreement was unspoken: they would keep the rubbing thing to themselves.  They did this so well that no one got wise to Kitty making trips to Kurt's room every night, and that was very fortunate.  Because for the next week, her visits were like clockwork --- on the dot at 11:45.  That was usually when the pain was the worst.

But on the sixth night, Kitty came in to find Kurt sitting in bed, reading.  She was a little surprised.  Normally the mansion's resident fuzzy dude had the lights off and was tossing and turning by now.  He smiled at her.  

She tried to smile back, but it wouldn't come.  Here she was, finally getting content and used to "playing nurse," and her patient was feeling okay.  He didn't need her anymore.  Kitty wasn't sure whether to be happy for him or annoyed.  

She settled for feeling stupid and out of place.

"Hey," she said.  It came out a little squeaky.

"Hi, _Kätzchen_.  How ah you?"

"Um, okay, I guess."  She nervously started playing with her hair.  "Well, I, uh, I'll be going.  You look okay."

"Do you vant to stay?" Kurt asked her.  It was a little blunt, and a little sudden, but just what she needed.

"Yeah, o-okay."

She went over and sat down primly on his bed.  He marked his place in "The Call of the Wild" and set the book down on the bedside table.  The two of them stared at each other, neither able to think of anything to say.  At least, Kitty was stumped.  Kurt finally opened his mouth.

"I vanted to tank you.  You really helped me out, and ah, I can feel somesing happening to me."

"Yeah?  For real?"

"Ja.  I sink, if ziss is anyting like before, I'm gonna get a lot taller!" he said, and flashed his fangs in a shy grin.  "Maybe I'll even be as tall as Scott, eh?"

With just a few words, he'd made her comfortable again.  Kitty laughed.  

"Kurt, Scott's like, 6'2" or something.  There's totally no way, mine froind," she said, in horrible German.  

Kurt ignored her accent.  "Ja, vell, a guy can hope, right?"

"That's true," she said, taking his furry hand.  "And you're welcome.  Any time, ya know."

They shared a shy glance, and Kitty saw Kurt's cheeks go purple.  His version of a blush, she realized.  It was kind of cute.  After a moment of silence, she let go of his hand and got up.  

"Well, I'm going to bed.  I guess I'll see you in the morning.  Tomorrow's Saturday, right?" she said, with a yawn.

"Yep.  See you tomorrow."

She waved, and phased through the wall of his room.  Kurt turned off the light and went to bed, pain-free for the first time in a week.

XXXXXXXXXXX

The next morning, everyone in the kitchen got a bit of a shock.  The X-men were at the table.  They'd gotten to sleep in a bit, while the new recruits had been woken up at the crack of dawn to tango with Logan in the Danger Room.  Scott was slurping up milk and the remnants of his cereal, Jean was finishing her bagel, Evan was wolfing down one of those toaster pastry things, and Rogue and Kitty were having oatmeal.  Kurt walked in.

Scott saw him and choked.  Jean whacked him on the back.  Everyone else either stared or started whispering.

Kurt was extremely tired, so he didn't even notice the commotion.  He had indeed undergone a change during the night --- he was about six inches taller.  His body had gone from lean and skinny to unbelievably lean and skinny, compensating for the sudden change in height.

"Oh.  My.  God!" Kitty said, way too loud.  

"Dang, Kurt!" Evan said, finding his voice.  "What the heck happened to YOU?"

"Whoa," Scott said, and coughed.

"Ah thank somebody grew," Rogue said, and smiled. 

Kitty got up and went over to Kurt, who had sleepily opened the refrigerator and was poking around inside.  

"Kurt?" she asked.

Kurt blinked at her with half-closed eyes, his fur going every which way.  

"Ja?"

"Have, uh, have you looked in a mirror, lately?"

"No, vhy?" he asked, scratching his head.

"Cuz, like, you just had a spurt," Kitty said, with a smile.  She pointed at the hallway mirror.  

Kurt went over and examined his reflection with interest.  His white undershirt now came only to the middle of his belly fur, and the legs of his pajamas were way too short.  He looked at his tail, which was longer than he remembered it.  And was that stubble?  Some parts of his cheeks had turned a bit furrier than the rest of him.  He whirled around and grinned at Kitty, then walked back into the kitchen, puffing out his chest.

Scott stood up as Kurt strode over.  For the first time in his life, the wiry German found himself face to face, literally, with the other boy.  So he proudly announced, gesturing wildly, "Ha!  I'm as tall as YOU are now!  Whoo HOO!  WHO da fuzz man!!  YEAH, baby!"

He swayed his hips and danced over to the refrigerator to get some food, and everyone started laughing.  Despite his new height, Kurt Wagner was exactly the same.  He poured some Cinna-Cubes into a bowl, washed some milk over it, and sat down at the table.  It was cacophony.  People were alternately talking to each other, giggling at him, or asking for food.

"Amazing that you did all that, and not a single growing pain," Scott observed over the din.

Kitty and Kurt shared a brief look.

"Freak of nature, zat's me!" Kurt replied cheerfully, and dug into his breakfast.

THE END


	4. He Ain't Heavy

Thanks to everybody who's reviewing this thing! I appreciate all of you! A few replies:  
  
Wydinel: I have no idea if Kurt purrs on TV. I've never heard it. That said, I *totally* like it in fanfic. It's fun!  
  
Kurt-Ling: Pleased to have you along for the ride! I read "UH-HUH" and left a review, but I don't think it's showed up yet.  
  
Sailor X, Min-kat, and Cyan Moon: Thankies, guys! :D You rock!  
  
wllw969: "Belly fur" is fun to type. And it's the most pet-able part of Kurt, dontchaknow. :D  
  
*clears throat* ANYWAY. I wanted to do something with Kurt and Rogue, and "Under Lock and Key" provided the perfect jumping-off spot. This next story takes place two weeks after that episode. I'm going by the show for this universe, so Kurt is still wearing the image inducer in public.  
  
Technically, this spoils "Shadowed Past" and a scene from "UL&K," but the element it "ruins" is a pretty small one in the end. So even if you find out "the big secret" from my story, it's all good. No harm done. For anyone who's interested, the last line is taken from the chorus of an old song.  
  
A brief translation: "_Ich__ sterbe_!" = "I'm dying!"  
  
As evidenced by that, this story is a bit more serious than the other two, but it has plenty of Kurt being Kurt to cut the drama. Okay! I think that's it. Without further ado, here's the latest addition to the Project. It's called, "He Ain't Heavy."  
  
Peace!  :D  
  


=== HE AIN'T HEAVY ===

The pain was getting worse.  It had started right after lunch, and hadn't abated at all, which led Kurt to believe that perhaps Scott and Evan were right --- maybe the school pizza WAS toxic.  

He had been in a bathroom stall when it started.  It was sudden and sharp, like something was trying to inflate him from the inside out, and shoving all his internal organs into strange places to do it.  Gritting his teeth, he held himself in check until everyone else had left the bathroom.  The only way to get a lid on it, it seemed, was to tightly hold himself around the middle.  It was okay as long as he held on.  But the instant he let go . . .

The boys' restroom was empty by that point; no one heard the shriek.

He clamped his mouth shut, gripped himself until he could stand, limped out, and went to fifth period.  He just sat in the back quietly, and didn't take notes.  The teacher droned on and on, but he couldn't even concentrate on her voice --- the jackhammer drilling away in his head made it a little difficult.  The bell rang and he hobbled out the door, the very last person to leave the room.  The worst thing about being a mutant, he decided as he limped along, was that going to the school nurse was out of the question.  As soon as she felt two furry fingers, he was doomed.

"Okay, dude.  Come on.  Just valk to PE," he muttered to himself.  

In truth, the last thing he wanted to do was go to PE.  He had no idea how he could play basketball and hold in the pressure at the same time.  And, he thought sourly, it wasn't like anybody would care.  After all, no one seemed to notice him, bent nearly double and holding his belly.  Perhaps he'd become a bit too good at blending in.  

The image inducer helped, of course.  With it on, he looked like every other kid --- or at least a close approximation.  Had it been really true-to-life, he would be deathly pale, with dark sweat stains spreading under his arms.  But his holowatch just made a pretty picture.  The only outward signs of his discomfort were the interesting faces he was making.

He never made it to 6th period. 

The pain got so intense that he had to stop walking and lean against the wall.  Students continued to rush by him in both directions, running to their classes, as though he was invisible.  He thought he saw Evan move by him in the throng, and he called to him, but the world tilted slightly and his thrasher friend disappeared into the sea of people, with nary a look back.  

He started to shake.  His legs crumpled underneath him and he slid down the wall, hitting the floor with a bump.  The landing jogged his ample tailbone and jolted his stomach, which was burbling, threatening to make him spew pizza all over the place.  His arms were aching from holding himself around the middle. They gave out and fell to his sides.  His head tipped to the left and bumped into the bank of lockers next to him with a quiet boom.

Nobody stopped.

The blood leeched away from his face.  He felt ready to throw up.  The floor was cold.  The sun was shining in through the school windows, flooding his eyes with painful light.  Then the crowd vanished, and the sixth period bell began to buzz obnoxiously.

The world shifted from color into shades of gray.  His heart hammered away inside his chest.  The pain in his belly was so overwhelming that it was hard to breathe.

"_Mein__ Gott_," he choked out.  "_Ich__ sterbe_!"

The world was merciful.  He blacked out, falling over onto his side, and knew no more.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Rogue was on her way to sixth period Chemistry, backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder.  She was late.  Not that she cared --- Chemistry was boring, and anyway, she was preoccupied with thinking about possible outfits for that evening's rock concert.  So she strolled along, alone.  The halls were practically deserted.  

"Yeah!  Only another hour, an' it's the weekend!" she said, to no one in particular.  

She was feeling so uncharacteristically good, so happy about going to the concert, that she even started whistling.  The opening notes of "Grey skies are gonna clear up" rang and echoed in the empty hallway.  Her boots clicked and clomped on the marble tile.  She looked around, to see if she was really alone.  She was.  Gleefully, she dropped her backpack and turned a cartwheel right past a bank of lockers… and gasped.

She almost fell.  In that brief moment when she'd been upside-down, she'd caught a glimpse of a pile of clothes, dark hair, and a bony, pale arm.  She pounded across the tile over to the clothes and her eyes went wide.

"Oh mah god," she muttered, turning Kurt over on his back.

She didn't know what had happened to him, only that he was unconscious and limp.  She shut off the hologram.  Kurt's big eyes were closed.  His sweaty fur was plastered to him.  But most terrifying, blood was dribbling out of his mouth.

"Hell!"

She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the mansion.

"Go ahead, Rogue."

Rogue ignored the professor's annoying habit of knowing callers before they announced themselves, and just started babbling.

"Professor, Kurt's down.  Ah thank he collapsed.  Ah'm in the hallway, at school, and he's unconscious.  There's blood on his lips --- Ah - Ah don't know what happened!  Is he dyin'?  Ah thank he's dyin'!  Whuddo ah do?"

She was openly panicking now, her smoky voice shooting for the rafters.

"First of all, calm down," the professor replied.  "I'm sending Logan.  He'll meet you out front.  Can you get Kurt that far?"

She tried to get a hold of herself.  "Yeah," she said, finally.

"I'll get the medical bay set up and call in a friend of mine.  Just get Kurt to the school entrance, and we'll handle the rest.  Okay, Rogue?"

"Ah'm on it."  

It was only when she turned off the cell phone that she realized her hands were shaking like crazy.  She threw the phone in her bag, tossed it over her shoulder again, and tried to lift Kurt, who was not cooperating at all.  His limbs were hanging and sagging all over the place.  Rogue got his arms and legs at his sides, curled his drooping tail up and over his belly and picked him up with a grunt.  

Then the adrenaline kicked in.  She put on her warrior face, hefted him up a little further, and took off at a dead run.

XXXXXXXXXXX

It was 6 o'clock.  Rogue was waiting on a bench outside the medical bay, caught somewhere between complete exhaustion and twitchy nervousness.  She'd run Kurt out of the building, clear across the gigantic quad, and through the administration building, just in time to meet up with Logan at the front gate.  He drove like a maniac all the way home.

The concert was set to start in two hours, but she couldn't even think about getting ready for it.  She couldn't even imagine going --- there was no way she could have fun when she was this worried.  Most of the team had stopped by, wandering in and out of the waiting area and asking if she needed anything: coffee, tea, a blanket, etc.  She just shook her head "no" every time.  All she needed was news.

Scratching at an itch on her shoulder, her mind wandered back to a couple of weeks ago, when she'd been stuck in here recovering from what she'd referred to as her bout of the "psychic stomach flu."  ("I swear, Professor, it was like mah head kept barfin' up everythang it ever knew!")

Kurt had showed up with food, trying to get her to eat some bean enchiladas with "Kitty's special sauce."  (Gross!)  She refused, not too politely, then asked where Logan was.

_"He and Storm are out trying to track down our 'loving muzzer.'  Ant ze uzzers have jetted off to __London__.  So Kitty and I are your caregivers.  Have a bite!"_

_"Go away."_

_"Hnph!__  Is zat any vay to treat your little brother?"_

_"We're not related."_

_"Oh, now zat's just denial talking."_

_"Mystique may have given birth to you, but she only adopted me."_

_"Either way, sis, ve're in ziss togezzer!  ...  I mean it, Rogue.  Vhatever you're going through, I'm here for you, okay?  Now sit tight.  I'll have Kitty make you an anchovie jalapeño pizza instead."   _**BAMF**

Afraid that he was serious, she was enormously relieved when he popped back in a few minutes later, with dry toast and weak tea.  He sat with her while she ate and didn't say a thing, waiting patiently until she was ready to talk.  

That was what she liked about Kurt.  For all his fooling around, he was really considerate.  He just seemed to have a sixth sense about when folks needed their space.

"You know, it'z like Evan says," he said, collecting her dinner tray.  "You need anysing, don't be tripping!  You mah voman!" 

Rogue could barely get out an "okay" through her laughter.  He just smiled.

"Vell, anyvay, you know vhat I mean," he finished.  "I'll see you later, okay, Rogue?"

"Rogue?" came a far away voice.

"Rogue!"

"Huh?"

"Wow, you were like, totally zoning," Kitty said, leaning into Rogue's field of view with a bit of a grin.  "We can see him now."

"Oh.  Good," she said, hefting herself off the bench.

"Ya know, he's really lucky you were there for him."

"Well, he's always there for me.  Jest returnin' the favor."

XXXXXXXXXXX

For a place to recuperate, the medical bay was awfully noisy.  A cardiac monitor was beeping somewhere.  The air conditioning was on, as was a radio.  The professor, Mr. McCoy, and a third person that neither of the girls could see, were having a loud conversation near a lit x-ray board.  

Rogue and Kitty walked up to them, and the professor and Hank McCoy turned around.  Kitty had told Rogue that Dr. Silverman was the surgeon who'd operated on Kurt.  Then he showed them exactly *why* he'd been brought in to do it.  He went from nothing, to a white chalk outline against the air, to an actual man, with short brown hair and a square jaw.  After all, who better to operate on a mutant than a mutant?  He stepped forward with a smile, and put out his hand to shake.  

Rogue shook it, unfazed by his display.  "How's he doin'?"

"Just fine," the doctor said kindly.  "He came though like a champ."

"Whut was it?"

"Appendicitis, of all things.  Mr. McCoy and I got the offending organ out just in time --- it was very close to bursting.  And the blood on his lips was nothing serious --- he just bit his tongue.  Not surprising, considering those canines!"  

He scribbled something on a pad, tore off a piece of paper, and handed it to Hank.  

"Anyway, he'll have to stay in bed for a few days.  He needs to take all the antibiotics I prescribed, and have his bandages changed regularly.  And if it becomes necessary, I just wrote a scrip for some pain medication."

Rogue smiled in relief.  "That sounds good.  Professor, kin ah…?"

"Of course," Professor Xavier said.  He pointed at the doorway beyond them.

The adjoining room was a little more private, and a lot quieter.  Rogue and Kitty went over and leaned on the rails of Kurt's hospital bed, which was laid out flat.  He was lying on his back, propped up slightly with a few pillows.  Somebody had stuffed another one under his knees.  The thick covers came up under his blue, fuzzy, muscular arms, which were resting at his sides.  He wore no gown, so both girls could make out the faint line of his collarbone.  An IV was dripping into the port on his left hand.

Kitty looked down at him with unabashed glee.  Not only was he all right, but someone had cleaned him up and dried him off after the surgery.  His fur was irresistible; he was tantalizingly soft and shiny.  He was also in la-la land.  She could pet him all she liked without having to explain herself to him.  And that was exactly what she did.

Rogue simply stared.  She'd just noticed his eyelashes.  It was only up close that she saw how long and full they were, how utterly innocent he looked when he was asleep.  His tail was wiggling crazily under the covers.  She watched, amused, as it escaped and curled itself around her wrist.  Kitty smiled.

Rogue gently uncurled Kurt's tail from her wrist and shooed it back under the blankets.  It seemed reluctant to go at first, but finally wiggled away.

"So," Kitty said, breaking the silence.  "I heard you, like, carried him all the way across the quad and into the van."

Rogue was about to reply, but Kurt picked that moment to snore.  It was a bizarre noise, somewhere between a tiny chainsaw and a huge mosquito.

"Uh, yeah, I did," Rogue said, and suddenly felt embarrassed.  She turned defensive.  "So whut?"

Kurt snored again, this time sounding remarkably like a small earthquake.  Kitty clamped down a laugh and started to fuss over him, getting his arms under the bedclothes and the blankets up to his neck.

"Well, I'm just saying, that was pretty incredible," she said as she tucked Kurt in.  "I mean, come on!  With all those burgers he eats, he must have been pretty heavy!"

Rogue was silent for a bit.  Then she smiled, the skin crinkling around her tired eyes, and tenderly brushed some of Kurt's hair out of his face.  Her hand settled on his shoulder.  

"He ain't heavy.  An' even if he was, ah woulda carried him anyhow," she murmured, looking down at him fondly.  "He's mah brother."

THE END


	5. Red Hot

Note: Thanks for all the reviews, everybody, particularly the most recent hits by Key. : )  
  
Rating: PG-13, for a semi-graphic depiction of sex.  
  
Introduction: From the deranged lunatic who brought you "Dark Night of the Soul," "The Spurt," and "He Ain't Heavy," comes a new dimension in Jott (Jean/Scott) nastiness. But never fear, Kurt is here! In this universe, "Blind Alley" never happened, and Kurt is not with Amanda.  
  
=== RED HOT ===  
  
It was a muggy night in June when Scott Summers and Jean Grey finally cracked.  
  
The pressure had been building for months --- about as long as they'd been dating. Nobody *knew* they'd been dating, which made it even more exciting. Jean's itches for mall-crawling, "Alone, thank you very much," and Scott's numerous "after-school activities," most of which were made up on the spot, had gotten them a lot of time together.  
  
Every date was an adrenaline rush, with deep, embarrassing questions making their hearts race in-between the blushing and the smiles. Could they pull off *this* outing without anyone sensing something was amiss? And how much longer could they keep all this up without being discovered?  
  
It added a sort of danger to their love life that Jean liked and Scott seemed to thrive on. After all, privacy, REAL privacy, at the professor's School for Gifted Youngsters, was practically nill. If anybody found out, they would never be left in peace again.  
  
But school had just ended for the year. Finals were over. The night was balmy, the moon was full, and the two of them were still trying to come down from the stress. Both knew they were ready to take their relationship to another level, and maybe blow off a little steam in the process.  
  
Scott had been eighteen for two months. Jean wouldn't be eighteen for two days.  
  
Neither of them cared about this as they necked their way through the mansion's garage, stumbling into walls, kissing like they were trying to devour each other, sighing through their noses, giggling into each other's teeth, and letting their hands roam.  
  
Finally, they stopped at a likely car. Jean suckered her mouth off Scott's, narrowed her eyes at the door handle, and the door swung open. He smiled at her, breathing hard, his ruby red glasses sliding a few millimeters down his narrow nose. He was sweating something incredible, as was she. She just pointed inside.  
  
So he picked her up and set her down on the back seat. She giggled madly.  
  
"Oh, Scott!" she cooed, as he climbed in and shut the door behind them.  
  
The inside of the car was dark, which was perfect, because both of them were a bit shy about this. Not for long, though.  
  
Clothes flew.  
  
Bodies danced.  
  
Sweat hit the steaming windows.  
  
It was good, it was fun, and then it was over.  
  
They lay there for a while, a pile of quivering, slippery flesh, cuddling in the back seat. It took a few minutes of sighs and small kisses for them to calm down.  
  
"Wow," Jean said, finally. "That was great."  
  
"Sure was," Scott agreed. "We should do this again sometime."  
  
"Yeah. In a bed!" she said. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."  
  
The car rocked as they laughed and scrambled all over each other, finding their clothes. Scott grabbed the condom he'd used, and pocketed it. The wrapper was nowhere to be found, but he wasn't worried. After all, who would be looking for it?  
  
A few seconds later, they stumbled out of the car . . . and got caught.  
  
Someone had turned the lights on the parking garage. Jean shielded her eyes from the sudden glare as Scott shut the door. He started looking around, instantly on the alert. His shirt was untucked, his pants were practically undone, and he was holding his shoes and socks. Jean looked like she'd been in a twister.  
  
"We're not alone," she muttered, stating the obvious, as usual.  
  
* BAMF *  
  
"Whoa!"  
  
CLOMP  
  
SPLOOSH  
  
Jean and Scott whirled around to see Kurt. KURT, who they'd both forgotten would be staying at the Institute for the summer, rather than going home to Germany. He was standing there in torn shorts and an old tank top, and staring at them, agape. Between his blue fur, crouching, muscular body, whipping tail, and wide yellow eyes, the effect was very dramatic. He'd dropped a bucket of sudsy water on the floor, apparently something he needed to wash one of the cars.  
  
"You . . . And you . . . And . . . Oh man!" he squeaked, pointing back and forth between the two of them and staggering backwards.  
  
Jean tried to head him off. "Kurt, it's not what you think."  
  
Scott didn't even try this tack. He gently pushed Jean aside.  
  
"Kurt, you can't tell anybody. If you keep our secret . . . I'll . . . dude, I'll do anything. Just, come on."  
  
The elf's curiosity was sufficiently piqued. He crossed his ropy blue arms, raised an eyebrow, and said, "Anysing?"  
  
"Anything," Scott said firmly, even as Jean glared at him.  
  
Kurt grinned, showing his fangs.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXX  
  
Half an hour later, Scott was taking a shower, Jean was cleaning herself up, and Kurt, having been promised breakfast at Pancake Village every day for a month, had completely "forgotten" about the incident.  
  
Scott was satisfied with the deal. Knowing how much Kurt ate, it would probably be a little expensive. But knowing how trustworthy the guy was, and how seriously he stuck to a promise, it would be worth it in the long run.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXX  
  
The next evening, Charles Xavier sat in front of his desk, hands resting in his lap, looking calm as he waited. He'd asked all the students into his study, for a "heart to heart."  
  
Everyone started filing in. Kitty grabbed an arm of the couch. Rogue, Evan, Bobby, Amara and Ray grabbed the seats. Sam and Ray stood, doing an annoyed little dance as Jamie and his "friends" swarmed around them noisily and took seats on the carpet. Kurt 'ported in and sat on the mantle. Scott and Jean were the last ones to come in, and they sat down on a wide chair near the door.  
  
"Good evening, everybody," Xavier said gently. "I have a bit of news: it seems that some of you have grown up rather fast."  
  
The kids looked baffled . . . until the professor produced something from his jacket pocket. It was a little purple square of paper, with a small horse on it.  
  
"I found this in my van when I took it out this afternoon," he explained, turning the little thing over thoughtfully. "I was on my way to the grocery store. I turned on the air conditioner, and the air flow blew it right onto the passenger seat."  
  
"What is it?" all the Jamies asked together.  
  
"Uh . . . James, why don't you all go get some milk and cookies? I think this talk would bore you."  
  
The Jamies didn't put up much of a fight. After all, they were only 12, and milk and cookies beat a grown-up's lecture any day of the week. They all nodded in unison and left. Xavier looked relieved as the door closed.  
  
"For the uninitiated," he said to the room at large, "This is a condom wrapper."  
  
There was a very pregnant pause.  
  
"Now, granted, I've had a few people tell me I'm a 'dapper old gentleman,'" he continued, steepling his fingers at his students. "That said, I didn't get lucky last night."  
  
Everyone giggled.  
  
"I want to know who did."  
  
The giggling stopped.  
  
"I refuse to pry into your minds. But I expect whoever did this to come forward honestly and tell me. Believe me, if any of you were of age, I wouldn't even mention it. But as I am not aware of any of you seeing anyone else, and since only ONE of you is eighteen, this is serious business."  
  
The room was just staring, by now. Kurt felt determined to protect Scott's secret, not to mention a little worried about the fate of his pancakes. He hopped off his spot on the mantle and stepped forward.  
  
"Professor, I admit it. Eet vas me. I, uh, I got lahkee."  
  
Xavier looked completely unconvinced.  
  
"Kurt, not to adversely affect your self-esteem, but that's ridiculous. You don't have a girlfriend."  
  
"No! Eet vas me! Eet vas me and, and, ah . . . Keety! Ja!"  
  
"Eww! Like, NO!" Kitty cut in. "Professor, tell him to quit being a doof!"  
  
"Eet vas us!" Kurt insisted.  
  
"Yeah, like maybe in your DREAMS, Fuzz-face!"  
  
"VEE GOT IT AAAHN!!!"  
  
"Shut UP, you idiot!!!"  
  
Kurt refused to shut up. He yelled "Hoo Mama!" and Kitty chased after him, looking murderous and trying to grab his spade tail. Five seconds later, the room was in chaos, Kitty and Kurt had bolted, and everyone else was laughing hysterically. The professor was a little annoyed. This had not exactly gone according to plan.  
  
"You're all dismissed. Summer's here, so you can do what you like, as long as you don't destroy anything. I'll see you in the morning. My request still stands, though. A private meeting can be arranged, but I expect a response to my question."  
  
There was a mumbling of "Yes, professor, Okay, etc." and everyone began to shuffle out.  
  
But, casting a critical eye on everyone as they left, Xavier realized he had his answer. Jean and Scott had already slipped out --- probably during the confusion.  
  
Something told him that Kurt's display was connected to it. So, as much as he didn't like it, he broke his promise and briefly scanned the young mutant's mind. It was easy --- Kurt was occupied with other things. He was scampering through the halls, laughing at Kitty, who was still shrieking like an aggravated doormouse and trying to catch him.  
  
The professor listened quietly. He picked up some apprehension, a sense of weighty responsibility, a whisper of "shhh!", an image of two half-naked bodies, and . . . lots and lots of pancakes.  
  
Xavier snorted. "So. They bribed him to keep their secret. Ingenious."  
  
He considered calling Jean and Scott back in and just giving them what for. Jumping each other's bones, in the back of his VAN, of all places, was hardly acceptable behavior for members of the X-Men. Then again, Jean would be eighteen tomorrow. Scott was already "of age." And heaven knew, he'd been quite the charmer when he was at Oxford.  
  
After all, he'd been young once, too. At 19, he countered his limp legs with dry humor and an uncanny ability with the ladies. His winking eye and quick wit were notorious on campus. All his friends on the debate team started to call him "Cheeky Charlie," and the affectionate nickname stuck. Forty years later, it still made him chortle.  
  
Because "Cheeky Charlie" knew exactly what women wanted. And he scored. All the time.  
  
His MO was to boldly chat up a girl at The Blue Lion, a pub just off campus. Then he would convince her to get into his lap, and give her a spin around the block in his wheelchair. This always got her to either screech in delight, or laugh, or both. And for the coup de gras, he would read her mind and tell her whatever she wanted to hear. It didn't take a telepathic genius to figure out what usually happened next.  
  
Jerking himself back into the present, and blushing fiercely, Xavier realized that he was in no position to tell anybody what they could and couldn't do --- at least in regards to, well, *that.*  
  
He smiled, and decided to put the matter to rest. Jean and Scott were obviously in love, and had obviously used protection. And Kurt had gone so far as to humiliate himself to keep their secret.  
  
Surely, the professor supposed, he could keep it too.  
  
THE END  
  
Note #2: I have no idea if Xavier was indeed a charmer, or if he ever went to Oxford. That was bona fide BS, but DANG, it was fun to write! If you know the professor's back-story and want to share it with me, you can leave it in a review (hint hint) or e-mail me (just click on my name at the top of the story). Thanks bunches! ~ Kiki 


	6. Spontaneous Combustion

Note: My thanks, as usual, go out to everybody who has reviewed this. I'd do individual notes, but I'm always afraid I'll forget someone, so THANK YOU AAAAAALL! Hee hee. You all rock! Here's the next bit of madness I could come up with. Enjoy.  
  
Summary: Ach, verdammt hayfever!  
  
=== SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION ===  
  
It was May, and everything in Bayville was blooming like crazy. The world was decked in color. Emerald grass, sweet pink buds, happy blue violets, and vibrant yellow wildflowers blanketed the back lawn of the Institute. Ororo made a point of tending to them along with her own garden. The weather was great, too. Most of the students at the mansion were enjoying the sunshine, getting up early just to watch the sun rise and feel the warmth on their bodies.  
  
Kitty Pryde, in particular, was a total "flare fiend," sitting out on the front steps every morning with her cereal, just to feel the sun cut the chill and watch it light up the world. Summer was getting closer, and she couldn't wait. It was Monday. She yawned, shifting where she sat on the steps, happy for the quiet.  
  
*BAMF*  
  
"Ku-urt!" she moaned, fanning the air and coughing. Leave it to Kurt Wagner to spoil a perfect morning.  
  
"Zorry, Keedy," he said, from his new spot next to her. "Jeed deeds sahm wadrobe advice. She assged bee to fide you." *snnnrk*  
  
"Wha --- huh? Who's Jeed?" she asked, forgetting her annoyance for a bit. The fuzzy elf's accent was usually a little thick, but he was utterly incomprehensible today.  
  
"Ach, you doh! Jeed! Jeed Grey!"  
  
"Oh! JEAN! Kurt, do you like, have a cold, or something?"  
  
"Nah, eez jast hayfeber."  
  
"Wow, that sucks."  
  
"Eh, eez not so bad. I'll go tell Jeed I --- ahh, ahh, AHH . . . CHOO!"  
  
There was a crack like lightning, a huge burst of smoke, and Kurt was gone. Kitty, although used to strange things at the Xavier Institute, was not prepared for this.  
  
"WHOA my God!" she yelled, jumping up. Her cereal splashed onto the steps. "Kurt? KURT!"  
  
She heard a moan about ten feet to her left, and an "Ova heeya."  
  
Kurt was hanging upside-down by his tail, dangling from a branch on a huge sycamore tree. He was trying to shake off some dizziness --- not an easy task while on his head. Kitty ran over.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Beez be. I sink eez by powez. Dey've been goig crazy --- happids veneva I sdeez." His tail began to twist of its own accord, turning him around like a slow ceiling fan. "Man, dis sahks," he finished.  
  
Kitty didn't know whether to laugh or help him, so she did both. With a giggle, she grabbed Kurt's hands, which allowed him to release his tail and swing down to land on his feet. They both went inside.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXX  
  
"Here, Kurt. This should keep you from sneezing at school," the professor said, and handed Kurt a small bottle.  
  
After hearing Kitty's tale of what happened in the yard, Charles Xavier knew that this hayfever thing could be pretty serious for the blue furry mutant. Kurt accepted the bottle and looked at it curiously.  
  
"Vhad izzid?"  
  
"A nasal spray. Just give yourself a squirt in each nostril before you leave --- Oh, I think Scott's almost ready to take everybody. You'd better just do it in the car."  
  
"Okay, tanks, profezzur." *snnrk*  
  
"You're welcome, Kurt. Have a good day."  
  
Kurt waved and scampered out of the professor's study. He raced through the hallway, slid down the main banister, and burst out the front door of the mansion. Scott, Rogue, Kitty, and Evan were waiting in the car, a little impatient. Kurt leaped clear over the front steps, clicking on his inducer mid-jump, and landed in the back seat between Evan and Kitty. Rogue had shotgun. She turned her head and smirked at her adoptive brother's antics.  
  
"Zorry fur da holdup," he said, buckling in.  
  
"It's okay," Scott replied, and floored it, just as Evan went "Daaaamn!" and Kitty muttered, "Show-off."  
  
"Hey, y'all, ah wuz wundrin'. Evabody has ta do a history project, raht?" Rogue said, as soon as they were on their way.  
  
"Yeah / Yup / Ja / Of course," the others chorused.  
  
"Well, ah ain't started yet," Rogue finished, a little embarrassed. "And ah kinda need ideas."  
  
"Rogue, it's due next week!" Scott chided her.  
  
"Ah know!" she shot at him, grumpily. "Ah just ain't gotten any inspiration, though."  
  
The conversation went quickly from how to help Rogue, to how dead Rogue was going to be when she flunked the project, and Kurt got distracted. The talk was lively, Kitty was right there, so close that he and she were bumping against each other as the car bounced, the wind was flapping his hair just so . . .  
  
He forgot to use the nasal spray.  
  
By the time he *remembered* to use the nasal spray, it was halfway through first period, when he realized he was about to sneeze. He held it in, making several interesting faces, until it passed. He sighed in relief, feeling gooey and completely relaxed for a just a moment. Then he raised his hand to be excused.  
  
In the bathroom, he gave himself the spray, which was not very pleasant, but seemed to hold off the symptoms. He figured he was good to go. He was very, VERY wrong.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXX  
  
"Okay, class. We will now turn to the severing of electron bonds," Mr. Stemper said.  
  
The entire 4th period Chemistry class stared back at him, faces slack with boredom and fatigue. Kurt, in the next-to-last row, wasn't even giving him that. He was staring out the window, at the sunny day outside.  
  
"Mr. Wagner!" Stemper barked, making sure to pronounce it "WAG-ner" instead of "Vag-nur."  
  
Kurt dragged his eyes back to front-and-center, and blinked at the teacher. "Yezz?"  
  
"Please repeat the last thing I said."  
  
Kurt didn't know the last thing Stemper had said from his own left butt cheek. And even worse, he was starting to feel a sneeze coming on. His holowatch picked up on his nervousness. Although his razor-sharp fangs precluded such a move, his induced image began to nibble on its lower lip.  
  
"Um, I, ah . . ."  
  
"As I suspected. Kindly stop daydreaming and start taking notes, WAG-ner."  
  
Evan, who was sitting next to Kurt, shook his head and made a disgruntled "Pssht" noise. Stemper always picked on Kurt in class, even though he had plenty of other people to mess with. It wasn't fair.  
  
"Did you have something to say, Mr. Daniels?"  
  
"No sir," Evan said, although privately, he was wishing Mr. McCoy was back teaching Chemistry.  
  
Stemper blathered on for a few minutes about electron bonds, and then he said the magic word.  
  
". . . Explosion. It's the basis of combustion, which we will be doing a lab on in a minute."  
  
Everybody perked up. Kurt's nose was starting to itch.  
  
"Mr. Stemper?" a perky girl in front asked, raising her hand.  
  
"Yes, Miss Simms?"  
  
"I was just wondering. Is there any truth to the stories about spontaneous human combustion?"  
  
The entire class started laughing. Kurt felt his throat closing up.  
  
"First of all, burning is not the same thing as exploding. Spontaneous human combustion is the creation of a bunch of pseudo-scientific quacks, nothing more. And, I might add, there is no recorded case of a human being actually going ka-boom."  
  
"Ah . . . Ah . . . Ah . . ."  
  
Kurt's eyes watered as he desperately tried to contain his sneeze. Everybody was staring. He gave Evan a very helpless look. Evan returned it with a puzzled gaze that said very clearly, "What, man?" He was about to find out.  
  
"AH-CHOOO!"  
  
Ka-BAM!  
  
A burst of smoke and ash.  
  
No Kurt.  
  
Instant chaos.  
  
Everybody was standing, and screaming, and pointing, and yelling about spontaneous human combustion. Evan tried to look terrified, but nobody was looking at him, anyway. Even Mr. Stemper had lost his cool. He was shouting for everyone to take their seats and screeching, "CALM DOWN!"  
  
Which naturally didn't help.  
  
Evan took the opportunity to slip out while everyone was distracted, and crept out into the hall.  
  
XXXXXXXXXXX  
  
Kurt was leaning against a bank of lockers, alternately honking into a tissue and coughing. Evan ran over to him, going from relieved to upset in less than a second.  
  
"What the hell did you DO, man?!"  
  
Kurt hacked up some dust. "I dunno. Itz dis verdabbt hayfeber! Ugh. Begs by powez go dutz."  
  
Evan took a second to translate-slash-absorb this.  
  
"You do realize that our entire Chemistry class thinks you exploded."  
  
"Ja." *HONK*  
  
There was a brief silence as Evan and Kurt looked at each other. And then Evan broke into a wide grin.  
  
"That was so COOL! Gimme some!"  
  
He held up a hand and Kurt, now grinning as well, slapped him three.  
  
"DANIELS! There you are. Get back in --- WAGNER?!"  
  
Both boys turned to see Mr. Stemper heading towards them, a very ugly look on his face.  
  
"Ah oh," Kurt muttered. He tried to back away, but Evan grabbed him.  
  
"Don't, man," he hissed in Kurt's ear. "It'll only make it worse."  
  
Stemper glared at the boys for a moment, but suddenly . . . he seemed to back off. He now looked vaguely annoyed, and no longer psychotic. It was as though someone had flipped a switch.  
  
"That was quite a magic trick, Mr. Vagner," Stemper said.  
  
Kurt raised an eyebrow at the correct pronunciation.  
  
"I'd appreciate it if you NEVER DID THAT AGAIN. You scared the class half to death."  
  
"I'm zorry, Mizdah Shtebbuh. Eet vont happid agged."  
  
Stemper stomped off, still looking a little steamed, but left the boys behind.  
  
"Magic trick?" Evan asked.  
  
Kurt shrugged. "Eezer da profezzur deed zomzing to alda Shtebbuh'z memory, or zombody up zere laigs bee."  
  
There was a pause as they contemplated this.  
  
"Yeah, I'm going with the Prof."  
  
"Bee doo."  
  
"Magic trick," Evan repeated, starting to laugh. "Classic, man!"  
  
He threw an arm over Kurt's shoulders and they walked back to class, giggling like fools.  
  
THE END 


	7. Platform 3

Summary: The bond between mother and child transcends everything.  Even fur.

Note 1: I have tinkered slightly with Kurt's story.  Simplified it, mostly.  Thanks (as always) for reading, and enjoy. :D

Warning: The category for this collection of Kurt craziness is, as you all know, Humor/Drama.  I dialed up the Drama for this one.  It's rated PG-13 for fleeting images of horror, one cuss word, and some serious angst.  So.  Without further ado, here is …

=== PLATFORM 3 ===

It was a little past midnight in Heiligenstadt.  The wind whistled through the airy, wrought-iron grates that fenced in the wooden platforms of the train station, leaving the air colder and cleaner in its wake.  The hanging lamps in the platforms kept the inky night at bay, making warm pools of light on the floors.  A plump-faced woman in her forties, with well-defined muscles that were visible even under her loose blouse, huffed up the wooden stairs to the platform.  Her long skirt swished against the steps, muffling the sound of her clogs.  The wind played with the kerchief on her head and made her old traveling cloak ripple out behind her.  In one hand she carried a duffel bag.  In the other, she held someone's sleeve.

The person stumbling along next to her was covered completely by a very large sackcloth robe, which dragged on the floor.  The hood of the robe obliterated any hint of a face.  A blind monk, perhaps.  It tripped on a stair.

"Pick your feet up, _liebe_," the woman said quietly.  "Ant keep your head down."

"I'm trying, mamma."

They got up to the main platform.  It was deserted.  The only sound around them was the wail of the wind and the creak of a hanging sign that said "3."  The woman tugged gently on the cloaked figure, leading it to a bench.  She plopped the duffel onto the floor and they both sat down, under the swinging glow of a nearby lamp.

"Zere's nobody here, _schatz_.  You can take it off."

"_Ja_?"

"Go ahead."

At this encouragement, the "blind monk" peeled back the hood of his burnoose.  Kurt Wagner lifted his long blue nose and sniffed in the crispness of the cool night.  He blinked a bit and smiled at his mother.  Elsa Wagner smiled back, ruffling his blue-black hair.   

"You're tired."

"Ah hah," he agreed.

He yawned and rubbed a three-fingered, furry fist into the corner of one of his golden eyes.  It had been a long day.  He brushed away the little dot of sleep and squinted down the track.  No train.  It was early, though.  The express wasn't due until 12:30.

He yawned again.  The cock crow had woken him at six in the morning.  He spent his day packing, helping with some last minute chores, and making sure his father would be okay on his own while they were at the station.  Gustav Wagner had broken his leg in a farming accident and was laid up, most unhappily, right when he wanted to see his son off to "The Famous Institute in America."

Kurt didn't seem inclined to make any conversation, so Elsa stared down the track and let her mind wander.  Naturally, it wandered toward Kurt.  Her little boy had grown up so fast … how did **that** happen?  It seemed like only yesterday when he'd been swept into the house and onto the kitchen table for inspection, like he'd been six years old a few minutes ago.  She sneaked a look at her son, dozing with his shaggy head tipped back against the iron grate, and things began to come back to her.

There was the definite smell of formaldehyde, she recalled, when she sat in the doctor's office in Munich, and the chair squeaked loudly at the precise moment he informed her she was infertile.  She was sitting across the desk from him, and he had raised his bushy white eyebrows and given her this look of pity.  Such a friendly, sweet, terrible look.  "I'm so sorry," he said.  He even pushed a box of tissues towards her, expecting her to cry.  

Elsa did not cry.  She was disappointed by the news, but she was also an acrobat in a traveling circus.  She literally had a clown for a husband.  The last thing she needed was children.  They were a death sentence, not to mention a liability on the road.  Once you had them, your figure was never the same.  The costumes looked like shit because your hips spread and your breasts sagged.  And worse, bending became too hard.  No.  Children were not for her.

And then Kurt arrived, and turned everything on its ear.

Memories began to skirt through her head in a blur of sights and sounds.  The past was flashing before her in vivid splashes of color, bursts of smells and touches, and noise.

*~*

She's sitting in the kitchen of the farmhouse she and Gustav are renting while the circus is stopped in Bavaria, talking about the weather with their housemates: the sword swallower and his wife, who assists one of the circus's magicians.  And here comes Gustav, blustering into the house with a red face and yelling, "Someone srew a kitten in za river!"  He's carrying a wet bundle of cloth …

A wet, blue, hairy little creature with expressive yellow eyes.  Little pointy ears.  Chubby, grasping hands with three dexterous fingers.  A round belly that pooches out and deflates with every deep breath.  Little furry feet kicking in the air.  A tiny tail that whips back and forth.  He mews and coughs and then laughs, showing fangs, and reaches up to her, stealing her heart …

An energetic little monster.  Literally.  Five years old, tearing around the green meadow behind the circus tent.  He wears little overalls with a hole cut in the seat for his tail.  Waving arms.  Joyful shouts.  Spontaneous leaps.  He uses his knees to break when he falls.  Grass stains everywhere.  It is a boisterous game of tag between Kurt, his several imaginary friends, and the sword swallower's cat, Koogle …

A daring young man on a flying trapeze.  Kurt's seven --- the youngest out there.  It's a pie-slice view, with a lot of patched red curtain on either side.  Her son is turning tricks and leaping from swing to swing in an absurdly ugly uniform.  The crowd roars beyond the curtain.  Her skin-tight acrobatic gear is starting to itch, and suddenly it smells like Gustav.  The clown-white he uses gives off a very strong, clean odor that burns in her nostrils.  His hand, gritty and warm, squeezes her bare shoulder, and he whispers in her ear, "Vould you listen to zat crowd!"  She turns around and gently honks his false red nose …

At thirteen, a rare thing.  Acceptance.  Kurt misses the bar during a practice run and hits the dirt the wrong way.  SNAP.  He howls in pain and tries to sit up.  The circus, to a man, comes running.  His shoulder is dislocated.  Mr. Bedermeier, the one-eyed lion tamer, forces Kurt back down on his back and yells in the boy's face, "Look at your muzzer!"  Kurt's horrified yellow eyes turn in her direction.  Bedermeier pops the joint back into place with a loud crack.  Kurt stares, his jaw twitches, and his big eyes roll back in his head and close.  Bertold, who cleans up after the elephants, yells, "_Nein_!  Kurt!" and dumps a bucket of water on him to revive him …

Soap bubbles.  Kurt's doing the dishes in the kitchen of their new house.  Elsa feels him sneak around behind her and grab some slices of the carrot she's working on.  He zips away, mouth full, before she can catch him.  Kurt is skinny and fifteen, and wearing only an old pair of pants.  The summer sun shines in through the window.  His tail flaps every which way as he scrubs and sings "Let It Be."  His voice is wobbly and he's completely out of tune, but at least The Beatles have been teaching him English.  

She throws him a carrot slice.  He catches it in his mouth with a satisfied, cat-like chomp.  "Clean up vhen you're done," she hears herself say, looking at a heap of Kurt's books on the rough-hewn kitchen table.  Thank God for home-school.  A whistled melody floats in through the window, riding on a hot summer breeze.  Gustav is outside, working the fields behind their home.  They are settled, now, and finished with the circus.  They are respectable farmers.  Nobody knows about Kurt.  They are safe …

Commotion.  Torches and pitchforks.  A crowd is banging past the front of the house, stomping and yelling.  "Mein Gott!  Ze whole verdammt village has gone crazy, Gustav!  Kurt?  Vere are you?!  KURT!" …

"It's a demon!  Kill it!  KILL IT!" …

That tower of flame.  The stake.  Chains.  Right in the town square, like a public witch-burning.  Kurt is about to be consumed by fire, terror, ignorance, and an angry mob.  (Vould you listen to zat crowd!)  The light.  The heat.  The noise.  So much screaming.  It's coming from the stake.  Elsa can feel her own legs burning, her eyes tearing up as she runs over, screeching "_NEIN_!" as her baby starts to go up like a human torch …

***BAMF!*   **

And he's gone.  Flashlights and torches, people hollering in a rage, wildly fanning out from the center and looking around, grubby hands shielding small eyes, squinting into the darkness.  They tromp off to search the shadows of stone buildings for any sign of their prey.  The crowd disperses, prepared to turn the town upside-down.  "It can't have gotten far."  It.  Not he.  It.  Gustav's arm is around her and she feels hot tears slip down her face.  He's shaking.  She is, too.  And then, something unearthly turns her head toward the woods.  She grabs Gustav by the hand and the two hurry off …

The pale moonlight makes the lake shimmer like molten silver.  They burst through the edge of the forest and slip down to the water's edge.  Steam and smoke rise from beyond a rock cropping.  They hurry around it.  Elsa drops to her knees in the shallow water, Gustav right behind her.  Kurt is on his side, half in the water, half out, spluttering and coughing and burnt; the picture of misery.  The steam is coming off his legs.  He put them out in the lake.  Elsa lets loose a wordless cry as she gathers him into her arms.  He just turns his singed face away from her and vomits like all hell …  

A bald man in a wheelchair has parked himself in Kurt's attic bedroom.  He is explaining quietly about an institute in America for people who are special, like Kurt.  He speaks English and Kurt translates, slurring his words a little.  The cotton comforter of his bed is warm where she sits, and the mattress sinks slightly behind her from his weight.  He's tucked in up to the chin.  She slathered his legs with aloe and wrapped them in bandages.  He's tired.  Weak.  His stomach won't settle, not even for weak tea.  "Would you let him come?" the bald man asks hopefully, his English accent ever so polite and inviting.  Kurt translates behind her, then says in German, "May I go, mamma?  Vhen I'm better? … Mamma?" …

*~*

"Mamma?"

"Ah?"

Kurt was staring at her a little funny.  Elsa tried to re-animate her face, to assure him she wasn't zoning out.  It was silly to be trapped in the past anyway.  He'd recovered completely from the incident.  He was just fine.

"Ah you all right?" he asked.

"Ja, _schatz_, I'm all right," she said, with a bit of a smile.  "It vill just be a bit hard vissout you."

Kurt scooted over to her and rested his head against her shoulder.  She brought an arm around him, and rubbed his rock-hard tricep.  She had raised a strong boy.  She tucked this fact into her memory, suspecting, on instinct, that she'd need to remember it before she went to sleep at night.  

The train arrived, a huge, impersonal gray thing with too many windows.  Finally it stopped whooshing by and ground to a halt, screeching and steaming.  The air turned gray from all the steam and smoke.  

Elsa stood up and Kurt got to his feet.  Kurt gave her a little smile and turned down to fiddle with his belt.  When he looked up, tears were streaking down his mother's cheeks.  Kurt sighed.  He knew this would happen.

"Mamma, please.  Don't cry."  His own voice was starting to wobble.  "Come on, mamma.  Please.  You know you olvays take everyone viss you vhen you do."

Elsa's lip quivered.  She bit it to hold it firm.  Then like a hawk, she swooped down and threw her arms around her son.  Held him tight.  Ran her fingers through his shoulder-length, shaggy hair.  Took in his earthy, soapy, furry smell.  She felt his ropy arms around her, and a squeeze.  Finally she pulled away and gave him a once-over … and spotted something.  

Kurt raised an eyebrow as she licked her thumb.  (Oh, God.  A spit bath!)  He tried to wiggle away.

"I'm sixteen, mamma!" he protested, dodging her hand.

"Ja, you're sixteen ant grungy.  _Hergekommen_!  You haff somesing on your face."

"Mamma!" he moaned, swatting at her.  "Dyah!  Yech!"

His swat missed.  She swiped her thumb across his face, catching the tip of his sensitive nose and then a bit of sleep that had nestled in his cheek fur.  He had the sense to look immediately embarrassed at his outburst.  She smiled.

"Zere.  Now you ah perfect.  You'll call as soon as you get zere, ja?"

"Of course."

With a gasp of steam, the door to the train opened.  They had run out of time.  She gave him one last hug.

"_Ich__ liebe dich_," she murmured.

"I love you too," he said.  He kissed her lightly on the cheek and broke the embrace.

With a showman's wink, he pulled the hood over his head like a magic trick.  In one smooth motion, he scooped up his duffel and trotted off towards the train.  Elsa watched as the door closed and Kurt sidled his way to the very back of the empty car.  She walked around it, following him.  He knocked on the back window and waved with a goofy smile.  She waved back.

The train started up with a loud chut-chut-chut and began to roll away.  Kurt waved frantically, with both arms and his tail.  Elsa laughed, tears rolling down her face, and blew a kiss.  She stood there on Platform 3, letting the wind whip her clothes, watching until the car was out of sight.

Kurt was leaving her.  But he was going to America, where he would be able to go to school and be happy and safe and free.  He was disappearing from her life.  But he would come back eventually.  And in the meantime there would be visits and telephone calls, birthday cards and Christmas.  It seemed like a fair trade-off.

"Yes," she said, to no one at all.  "My boy is strong, and brave, and he is going to America.  And if he needs me … I am here."

THE END.

Note:  

Yeah, Elsa and Gustav are 100% BS.  But I love 'em, and they're a lot easier to deal with than Margali and her witchery stuff, or mistaken family identity, or the half-sister Jimaine thing, and murder, and all that.  Besides, we haven't learned a whole lot about Evo Kurt's folks anyway, so there's sort of the creative license thing here.  

FYI: the only really good Kurt story I've read that involves some mention of Kurt's relationship with his mom is "Popcorn and Sawdust," an absolutely amazing, gripping, beautiful piece of work that **ISN'T DONE**, *ahem ahem.*  It's also of interest to anyone who wants to see a story that brilliantly weaves in the ACTUAL history of Nightcrawler, as opposed to my above thing.  I really hope that author gets her behind in gear and finishes it, because it's spectacular. 

THANK YOU EVERYBODY FOR REVIEWING!  IT MAKETH MY DAY SO!  I LOVE YOU ALL!!!  If there's anything y'all want to see in these little one-shots, don't be shy!  Just bust out and say what you want.  You want Kurtty?  You got Kurtty!  You want somethin' else, well, you get the idea!

Cheers, take care, and have a wonderful day,

Kiki


	8. The Alien Down The Hall

Hi, everybody!  Sorry I haven't posted in … holy crap!  TWO WEEKS?!  Whoo damn!  Time got away from me. :(  I'm truly sorry about that.  Anyway, here's another little tale to tickle some funny bones.

Summary: They never did show what happened when Kurt and Kitty first met.  Hee hee.  FOOLS!  Look what you have unleashed!  :D  This is my take on it.

Note: This is Kitty/Kurt friendship.  : )  I also want to give a shout-out to all the kind, fabulous people who have reviewed! :)  SHOUT-OUT!  YEAH!!! :D  And one last thing: this story takes off RIGHT from the end of "The X Impulse."  Thus, it has a bit more Kitty than Kurt at first, but it shouldn't be too boring.  Okay?  "G'wan wi yeh!"  Enjoy!  ;)

=== THE ALIEN DOWN THE HALL ===

Professor Xavier and Jean Grey were sitting and standing, respectively, on the front steps of the Pryde family's home.  They had just offered to take Kitty back to New York with them in the Blackbird, which was parked on the lawn.  Kitty was eyeing it in awe.  Her parents were looking at it, too.  Harold Pryde was suitably impressed.  But Rachel Pryde took a look at the imposing black plane, blinked a few times, and finally shook her head 'no.'  

"I'm sorry, Professor.  I'd prefer that Kitty not fly in on that plane.  I'm sure it's fast, but she just gets airsick so easily!"

Kitty was mortified.  "Mom!"

"Yeah, poor little thing," Harold said, putting an arm around his daughter.  "We just want to spare your upholstery, professor.  Kitty yarks up every time she flies."

"_Daddy_!"

"Now, we're happy to have Kitty come to the Institute," Rachel said over her daughter's irritated shriek, "But let me put my little girl on something … slower.  Harold and I will pay for it."

"And you'll have to remember your inhaler, Princess," her father said.  "Remember that one time you flew to see Auntie Lois in Brunswick, and had that attack on the way?"

"Oh my God, this is, like, not happening!" Kitty muttered, staring at the ground and turning beet red.

The professor seemed to understand her plight, and jumped into the conversation.

"Mrs. Pryde, if you feel more comfortable with your daughter flying on a regular plane, that's perfectly fine with us.  We'll just send someone from the Institute to meet her at the airport.  Is that all right?"

"Oh, that's much better," she said.  She didn't notice how Kitty was glowering fiercely at her.  "Thank you.  We'll have her packed up and there in a jiffy.  Come on, sweetie!"

Kitty mumbled and grumbled as both her parents led her away, into the house, and closed the door.  Jean and the professor watched them go.  The vivacious redhead snorted and crossed her arms.

"Boy, mommy and daddy sure are overprotective.  We are doing that kid _such_ a favor," she said.

"I'm not so sure," the professor countered.  "I remember another young girl who arrived at the Institute.  She was terrified --- had a spectacular nightmare her first week.  She woke up utterly convinced that her mummy and daddy had disappeared, and she was all alone in the world."

Jean flushed to the tip of her nose.

"The poor dear ran into my room at three in the morning, in a right panic."

Jean cut him off by clearing her throat.  "Well, our work here is done.  Let's get to the plane."

"Yes, let's," Charles said, a smile tugging at his face.

~~~*X*~~~

Scott Summers had been elected the official "picker-upper."  To that end, he was standing around at the airport, holding a sign that said "PRYDE," and watching as the flock of passengers from Chicago, Flight 39, got off in Terminal 13 at the Buffalo Airport.  Grumpy businessmen, exhausted mothers with their children, and a few dyed thrashers (headed towards a skateboarding convention) filed by him before a pretty young woman saw the sign, smiled cheerfully, and walked over.  She had big blue eyes, a bouncy brown ponytail, and a slightly green tint to her face.  

"Hi!" she chirped.  "I'm Kitty."

He smiled.  "Well, I'm Scott."

"Hi, Scott.  Nice shades!"

"Thanks," he said, a little embarrassed.  "Uh, let's get your bags, okay?"

Scott got his exercise for the day by collecting all ten zillion of Kitty's bags from the baggage claim, and loading them into the back of the X-Van.  He climbed into the driver's seat and sighed.  They still had a long journey ahead of them, and with all the luggage smashed into the car, there was barely enough room for the two occupants at the front.  Scott decided to just suck it up and make the best of it.  

"All right!" he said, buckling in.  Kitty followed his lead.  "Well, we've got a pretty long ride up to Bayville, so just sit back and relax."

"Okay."

Scott drove and drove, and Kitty alternately slept or stared out the window.  In-between, they made polite conversation, which amounted to nothing.  Kitty would have liked to listen to a CD, but her player was stashed somewhere in one of her bags and all her CDs were in another.  Instead, she passed the time by glancing at her chauffeur.  After staring discreetly at Scott's profile for about a mile and half, she decided that he was _very_ cute.

Finally, they pulled up to the gate that led into the mansion.  The sun was just setting.  Kitty stared at the huge house with her mouth hanging open.

"Wha-huh-_ho_!" she chirruped from the passenger's seat.

Scott smiled. "Like it?"

"Like, _yeah_, I like it!  Look at the _size_ of this place!"

He parked the X-Van in the circular drive, got out, stretched, and went to open the trunk.  Kitty hopped out from the other side and started to help with the bags.  Presently, the front doors of the mansion swung open.  A big burly man wandered out and sauntered over to the van.  He wore jeans, a white t-shirt and a motorcycle jacket, and sported an impressively wild head of hair.  Scott turned to Kitty.

"That's Logan.  He's a teacher here."

"Is Logan his first name, or his last name?"

"It's his _only _name."

"Oh."

"Logan Logan" loped over to them and began to talk to Scott, as though Kitty wasn't even there.

"So you got back all right, I see," he growled.

"Yep," Scott said.

"Who's the half-pint?"  

Kitty felt a bit ruffled at this.  She was _petite_, thank you.

"Oh.  Logan, this is Kitty Pryde.  Kitty, this is Logan."

Kitty squashed whatever annoyance she had for the man and promptly said, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Logan."  

She held out a hand and they shook.  She smiled.  Logan was just blinking, apparently stunned by a simple handshake.  Kitty didn't get it.  It was just what she'd been taught to do; just ordinary politeness.  She hoped he wouldn't get mad, or anything.  Scott took a step back.  But Logan Logan just snapped out of it and smiled at her.  Kitty saw Scott raise an eyebrow.  She smiled back at Logan.

"Pleased to meet you too, Kitty," he said.  His voice was gruff, but friendly.  "C'mon, let's get you and all your stuff inside."

"Okay!" Kitty said, and bounced over to the van to retrieve a suitcase.

"Cute kid," Logan remarked to Scott.

~~~*X*~~~

Kitty, Logan, and Scott hauled all her stuff into the front hall.  The two guys immediately started arguing.  They were debating on how best to get her luggage up the stairs to her room, when a bell rang.  The conversation stopped, practically in mid-sentence.  Both guys, without preamble, dropped all the crap they were holding and took off, leaving a very confused Kitty standing in the hallway, in a pile of bags.  She had to phase through all her luggage to escape.  A white-haired African woman wandered by.

"Oh, my!" the woman said, stopping.  "Look at all this!  Are you the new girl, who can walk through walls?"

"Yes, ma'am.  Scott and Mr. Logan were supposed to help me get all my stuff upstairs, but then there was this 'ding' and they left.  Is there some kind of emergency?"

The African woman pinched the bridge of her nose like she had a headache and said, "My dear, never underestimate the power that food has over men.  That was the dinner bell."

Kitty started laughing.  "I'm Kitty.  Who are you?"

"Ororo Munroe."  She created a small cloud between her hands.  "Also called Storm."

"Cool!"

Ororo just smiled.  "Come along, dear.  I'll show you to the dining room.  Also called 'Ground Zero.'  You'll see what I mean."

Kitty walked in after Ororo and was greeted by the professor, sitting at the head of the table.  He waved, since his mouth was full of salad, and then motioned for her to come in.  He made a long sweep with his arm at a table along the far wall, and Kitty got it.  It was a buffet.  She nodded happily at him and passed by Logan and Scott, who were both attacking their plates like they hadn't eaten in days.  It was a feeding frenzy --- little bits of food were flying everywhere.  She immediately understood Ororo's reference.  

There was another boy sitting there, about her age, and pretty good-looking.  He had a straight nose, a pointed chin, dark hair, darker eyes, and a long piece of asparagus hanging out of his mouth.   He was also staring at her like he'd never seen a girl before.  Jean wandered in.  

"Hey, guys," she said.

The guys grunted at her and went back to their food, even the one with the asparagus.  Jean went to get a plate.  Kitty moved along the buffet line slowly, letting the other gals get in front of her.  She selected a bun, a big helping of Greek salad, some pasta, and vegetable soup.  A carton of chocolate milk completed her meal.  She was about to go sit down next to Scott, when Jean slipped into the seat beside him.  _Oh, so THAT'S how it is_, she thought.  And then a few seconds later, _Damn it._  Storm sat down next to Logan.  There was only one chair left, next to Asparagus Boy.  She sighed mentally and sat down.  Asparagus Boy looked over at her, grinned through a mouthful of mashed potatoes and steak, and said what she assumed was a greeting.  He then attempted to introduce himself.  It sounded like his name was …

"Curb Fogger?  That's your name?  Oh, you poor thing!" she said.

Everybody else laughed.  "Curb" was waving his arms like "No!" and laughing, too.  She waited while he swallowed, and tried again.

"My name is Kurt Wagner," he said, in a gentle voice that somehow suited his crisp German accent.  "Ant you ah?"

"Kitty Pryde."

"Keety, ah?  Nice name.  Vere ah you from?"

"Chicago."

"All de vay from Cheecago!  Mein Gott, zat mast have been a long flight."

"You have no idea," Kitty said, unconsciously rubbing her belly.  "So where are you from in Germany?"

"All ova," Kurt said, digging into his food again.  "Mein family vas in a traveling circus.  I vas a trapeze artist."

"Wow!  Sounds like a neat way to grow up."

"Oh, ja, it is --- eef you like za smell of tiga crap," he said, and laughed.

"Can it, ya screwball!  That ain't proper dinner conversation!" Logan hollered at him.  

Professor Xavier, in a rare display of emotion, rolled his eyes.  Jean and Scott snickered.  Kurt tried to say "sorry" through another mouthful of mashed potatoes.  It came out, "Fa-wee."

"It's okay," Kitty said, and laughed.  Maybe Asparagus Boy wasn't so bad after all.  "So what's your power?" she asked.

Kurt grinned.  "Get ready to fan za air!" he said.  **BAMF!**  He disappeared and then reappeared in another corner of the room, leaving behind the smell of fire and brimstone.

"Whoa!"

Kurt teleported back into his chair and the two kept talking and eating.

~~~*X*~~~

It was 11:30.  Kurt was sprawled on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, with a wide grin on his face.  He'd gotten to sit next to an actual human girl, make some sparkling conversation, if he did say so himself, and get to know her.  The professor's image inducer had truly given him a chance at a life.  Of course, there would be the slight problem of her finding out that he was really blue and fuzzy, and that perhaps his actual parents had been gargoyles, but he would deal with that later.  Or maybe never.  

There was a knock.

"It's open!" Kurt called.

Scott stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

"Hey, Kurt."

Kurt sat up.  "Hey, Scott.  Vhat's up?"

"Not much.  Kitty just got settled into her room."  Scott looked distinctly uncomfortable.  "Look, Kurt, I'm no good at this touchy-feely stuff, but, can I give you some advice?"

"Huh?  Vell, I guess so."

"Turn off that inducer and show Kitty who you really are."

"Nein, man!  She'd freak out!  Besides, she vas diggin' on za fazzy!"

"She wasn't 'diggin' on the fuzzy,' you goof.  She was diggin' on the image.  Come on.  She deserves to know."

There was a long, painful pause as the two of them stared at each other.  Kurt knew Scott was right.  But if Kitty got scared … He didn't know what he'd do if Kitty got scared of him.  If he frightened her away, there would be no more Kitty.  And that would be a seriously bad thing, because Kitty was nice, and funny, and very pretty.  But … she deserved to know who she spoke to at dinner.

"Ja, all right.  I'll show her tomorrow.  Okay?"

"Good man," Scott said, clapping the younger boy on the shoulder.  "I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay.  Goodnight, Scott."

Scott left, turning out the light as he went, leaving Kurt all alone.  He shut off his inducer glumly, and stared out the window at the full moon.  With a sigh, he crawled into bed.

~~~*X*~~~

Kitty hummed as she shut off the light in the bathroom.  After a long day of traveling, she'd revived over her dinner, and then rejuvenated with a warm shower.  She was wearing a long pink bathrobe.  Her hair was wrapped up in a peachy towel.  And now, her face was covered in a green mud mask.  It was supposed to diminish oils --- prevent zits, or something.  She got into bed, slipped two cucumber slices over her eyes, and fell asleep.

That didn't last long.  For some aggravating reason, she woke up at 1:30 in the morning, incredibly thirsty.  Grumbling, she took off the cucumber patches and wandered out into the hall, trying to remember the way to the kitchen.

~~~*X*~~~

Kurt had given up on sleep.  He'd been tossing and turning for hours, without success.  If he hadn't exhausted himself during the day, he normally had a difficult time getting to sleep.  The prospect of showing himself to Kitty, in all his blue fuzzy glory, wasn't helping matters.    

"Argh!" he finally mumbled, and smashed a fist into his pillow in frustration.  "Vell, maybe a drink of vater vill help."

He threw back the covers, setting both of his two-toed feet on the rug, and stood up, smacking his lips.  He wasn't wearing a shirt, just his old pajama bottoms with patches on the knees, and a hole in the seat for his tail.  Said tail was whipping back and forth behind him.  Now that he was standing, ironically, he felt woozy and sleepy.

"Gott dammit," he muttered.

He shuffled towards the door and opened it.

A door opened down the hall.  

Kurt zipped into a shadow, and listened for footsteps.  He didn't want to run into anybody at night without his inducer.  He heard nothing for a few seconds, so he jumped out …

And found himself face to face with an honest-to-God alien.  Kurt had always dismissed stories about aliens, but no more!  This one had a pink body, a large, peach-colored head, and an ugly green face.  

Kitty found herself face to face with an honest-to-God demon.  She'd never believed in all that vampire/gargoyle/goth crap, but here she was, looking at something that was truly from Hell.  The thing blinked at her in horror, with huge yellow eyes.  It had blue fur and huge fangs.

For a second, neither of them could react.  And then the adrenaline kicked in.

"AAAH!" Kurt yelled.

"AAAH!" Kitty shrieked.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" they both screamed together, and took off running in opposite directions.

Kurt hurtled off like a furry blue bullet, crossing himself and yelling "Ave Maria grazia plena!"  Running into the common room, he grabbed a massive fireplace poker, and, heaving for breath, gathered his nerve.  He ran back towards his room, ready to do battle with the alien down the hall.

Kitty just whirled around and smashed into some paneling.  She was so frightened that her power kicked in, and she phased through the wall --- kind of.  She kept her clothes on, but left most of her face mask behind on the stained wood.  In a panic, gasping and holding her chest, she realized that she'd ended up in the kitchen.

"Omigod!  Like, what _was_ that?!"  She started to babble to herself.  "Okay.  Stay calm, Kitty.  So there's a demon in the mansion.  Maybe it's, like, stupid, and if I just push it towards a window, it'll fly out and go away."  She paused.  "Yeah, right.  Well, like, maybe if I hit it with a shovel, it'll get the hint."

Despite a frantic search, she found no shovel in the kitchen.  But someone had left a rolling pin out on the counter.  She picked it up with a grin, and ran out of the kitchen, around the common room, trying to get to the hallway from the other side.  Maybe she could surprise the demon.

~~~*X*~~~

A light clicked on the hallway.  Scott was standing there at the switch just as Kurt rounded the bend, newly armed with his fire poker.  

"Scott?"

"Kurt, I heard screaming.  What happened?"

"Zere is an ALIEN in za mansion!" Kurt said seriously.  "I'm trying to flahsh it out.  Vanna help?"

"An alien?" Scott mumbled.  It was, after all, almost 2 in the morning.  "Kurt, what are you talking about?"

"Look!" the furry teen shouted.  He pointed at the wall, where the remains of Kitty's face mask were starting to drip onto the floor.  "See, eet left behind zis disgasting slime!"

Scott scratched his head.  He was about to turn around and walk away, when something small and fast collided with him.  He heard an "oof!" and turned around.  Kitty was sitting on the floor, in her bathrobe and towel, a rolling pin getting away from her, with only a thin ring of green around her face.  He helped her up.  

"_Vas ist das_?" Kurt asked, confused.  

Kitty saw him and screamed again.  "Run, Scott, run!" she screeched, and tried to drag him away.

"Kitty, it's okay, it's … it's only Kurt."

Kitty stopped pulling on him, but her look told him exactly what she thought of his mental state.  "Like, no way!  That's like, the son of Satan!  That's not Kurt!"

Scott said nothing.  He just put an arm around her and fought with her, (it was quite an amusing tussle) until finally, he'd turned her around.  Now she was facing the blue guy down the hall.  A change had come over the scene.  With the light on, the demon didn't seem quite so menacing.  The shadows on his face were a little softer, the glow to his eyes less pronounced.  She stared at him.  Nobody said anything for a bit.  Scott looked at the floor.  Kitty looked baffled.  Kurt looked like he wanted to disappear.  Finally, he couldn't take the silence anymore, and spoke up.

"Vell, at least zere's no alien," he said, gesturing at her with the poker.  "I'm sorry.  I deedn't know vhat to sink, mit dat goo you had on your face."

Kitty was just stunned.  Her shoulders drooped.

"No," she said softly.  "No freakin' way."  

The voice, that gentle voice, was the same as Asparagus Boy.  

"You're Kurt Wagner?  The guy from dinner?"

Kurt gulped.  "Ah, ja.  I am."

"Wha-What happened to you?  Is this, like, some sort of curse that goes with your power?  You, like, turn into a demon when the sun goes down?"

Scott snickered.  Kurt looked mildly annoyed.  He handed the poker to his tail, and crossed his arms.  

"You haff been reading too many of zose _verdammt_ fairy tales," he declared.  Then he sighed, because she was basically right.  "I am cursed, zough.  Zis, za fur, za fangs, zey neva go avay.  Only ven I put on ze indusa."

"Your watch," Kitty said, putting it all together.

"Yes."

Scott slowly stepped back, to give the two their space.  Jean came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.  The two younger teens ignored them, but both looked extremely embarrassed.

"I'm sorry I scared you," they both said at once, then laughed.  

"I vill try not to do zat again," Kurt said.

"Yeah, well, I promise no more alien faces.  I'll make sure I come out of my room looking like me," Kitty replied.

"Me too."

"You do that," she said, with a smile.  "I'm going to bed.  'Night, Scott.  'Night, Jean."

"Goodnight, Kitty," the older teens said together, and turned to go.  

"'Night, Kurt," she added, almost as an afterthought.

"_Gute__ Nacht, Kätzchen_."

Kitty gave him a tiny smile, which made Kurt feel a bit better, and slipped into her room.  Scott and Jean kept walking, turning the corner and dropping out of sight.  Kurt was alone in the hall. 

He heaved a huge sigh.  Well, at least Kitty had managed to say a few words to him before fleeing.  He considered that a step in the right direction.  Feeling extremely silly about the whole incident, he went to put the poker away.  It took him a few minutes to find the fireplace in the dark.  After he got the poker back into its stand, he stretched and yawned, and wandered off in the direction of his room.  

Almost immediately, the time caught up with him.  It was very late, and he'd had a very long day.  He suddenly felt very weary, and ready for bed.  The hall was dark again, and everything was inviting and sleepy.  The rolling pin that Kitty had dropped was lying innocently on the rug.  

He never saw it.

"Whoa!"

*WHOMP*

Kurt, now sprawled face-first on the floor, sighed, and assessed his situation.

"Okay, so she is not yet fumly digging on za fazzy man," he said into the carpet.  "But at least she is not an alien!  Zat's somesing, ja?"

THE END …

Of this story.  Fear not, folks.  There will be more. :D  Or, 'ya know, be afraid.  Be very afraid.  Whatever you prefer.  LOL

Cheers,

Kiki


	9. Bumpity, Bumpity, Bumpity, Splat!

Summary:  Missing scene from "Grim Reminder."  (The one where Logan gets that chip in his head, and he goes up to Canada, and Kurt and Kitty accidentally tag along.)

Spoilers:  Um, "Grim Reminder."  Yeah.

Category: Humor

Notes:  Kurt Plushies for everybody who's reviewing! :D  I love you all.  This "scene" takes off right from the end of the explosion, and finishes before Logan wakes up from the brain surgery.  Without further ado, here is …

=== BUMPITY, BUMPITY, BUMPITY, SPLAT! ===

Kurt and Kitty were sitting on a log, waiting for something to move in their direction.  The dust from the explosion had almost cleared.  Kitty was biting her lip, hoping "Mr. Logan" would be coming soon.  Kurt was getting nervous, too.  Sure, the Canadian was made of steel, literally, but that was a pretty bad blast.  Both of them had almost given up hope when …

"Ooooh."

Logan materialized in the light mist, stumbling towards them.  His costume was ripped to hell, and he could barely walk.  Finally, he just collapsed, with a moan, and was still.

"MR. LOGAN!" Kitty shrieked, and ran over to him.

Kurt followed her.  They both knelt next to the fallen mutant.  Kitty took his pulse and measured it with her watch, sniffing and blinking back tears.  After a minute, she looked up at Kurt.

"Vell?"

"He's alive, but he's hurt, like, bad, Kurt.  We gotta get him home.  Like, right now." 

The German put his hands on his hips and snorted.  "Easier said zan done."

"Totally."

"Ach.  Ziss is no good!  Let me find za plane.  Hang on."

Kurt quickly climbed to the top of a nearby tree, where he could get a better vantage point, and looked around until he spied the X-R-15-A84-whatever-the-hell Blackbird, parked in a clearing about 200 meters west of their position.

"Keety!" he yelled, and pointed.  "Eet's _dat_ vay!"  

With a few well-timed jumps, he landed gracefully next to Kitty and Logan.  

"Can you 'port us all there?" she asked.

"Nein.  I can't do a long port mit him.  I'm a leetle out of juice from zat craziness mit Sabretooth.  But if vee can carry Meesta Logan for a leetle vay, zen I can try two short ports."

"Well, that sounds like a plan.  Let me see, like, how far I can get his head up, and then you can get his legs, or something."

"Vell, eef you inseest …"

Picking Logan up wasn't easy.  For starters, he was lying on his belly.  Kurt and Kitty had to work together just to turn him over.  

Kitty grabbed Logan under his arms, gritted her teeth, and pulled up, straining tremendously.  After a minute of struggling with the huge, uncooperative lump of a man, she managed to sit him up.

"Yeesh!  This is, like, way hard!" she complained.  She blew out three breaths for her final attempt.  Kurt tried to hide a smile.  "Hrrrrrrrrgh!" she yelled, scrunching her eyes shut as she pulled, her arms and legs quivering.  With a gargantuan tug, she … got Logan's ass three inches off the ground.  Then she dropped him.

Logan fell onto the snow, spread-eagle, and Kitty staggered back, panting and red-faced. 

"Mein Gott, Keety, zat sucked!" Kurt commented, laughing. 

Kitty glared at him.  "Oh yeah, *wheeze* Fuzz-Boy?  *pant*  I'd like to see you do *kaff!* better!"

"Ooooh, a challenge!"  He rubbed his three-fingered hands together to warm them up, walked over to Logan.  "Lahkee for you, I haff a brilliant idea!"  

It turned out Kurt's "brilliant idea" was to grab Logan's arms, get them over his own shoulders, and step forward until the larger man draped over him like a big, hairy cape.  The going was rough.  But in the end, he managed to get Logan all the way onto his back.  He scampered along on all fours for a few feet, before stopping to rest.  Kitty squealed in delight.  Kurt was completely covered by Logan.  The way Logan seemed to float along gave Kitty the impression of one of those automatic rabbits at a dog track.  Then, **BAMF**!  Kurt and Logan were gone.

Kitty hurried to the clearing, just in time to see the Blackbird sitting there, a bit of smoke clearing, and Logan doing his dog-track-rabbit impression again.  She heard panting underneath Logan, which she assumed was Kurt.  (AN: Talk about slash fodder.)  She sprinted over to her friend, who was straining under the 200+ pounds of X-Man on top of him.

"Come on, Fuzzy, like, put some muscle into it!"  She clapped as she cheered him on.  "You're doin' great!  Almost there!"

Kurt was wheezing like a cow giving birth.

"Keety!" he yelped.  "I can't!  He eez too beeg!  I-I'm stahk!"  (AN: That sounds so wrong.)

"One last 'port, Kurt, come ON!"

"I can't!"

"You CAN!  MAKE ME PROUD, DAMMIT!!" she yelled.

"Yaaaaah!" he strained, grinding his fangs.

Ka-**BAMF**!

They disappeared.

Kitty ran to the plane and phased up through the hull, landing in the main cabin.  Kurt and Logan had both made it, although neither was in terrific condition.  Kurt had gotten them inside the jet.  Unfortunately, they'd arrived in an ungainly tangle on the floor, with the lighter mutant squished on the bottom.  

"Kurt?" Kitty asked, bending over the dogpile.

"Owie," came a moan.

A yellow-gloved, three-fingered hand wormed its way out from underneath Logan and reached for her.  She took it, phased, and pulled Kurt free by yanking him through Logan.  It was quite an effort, but she got him to stand up.  No longer dizzy and able to breathe again, he cracked his neck, and knuckles, and every vertebrae in his flexible back, and then smiled at her goofily.  

"That was, like, gross.  Are you okay?" she asked.

"Oh ja," he said, and slouched comfortably.  "Mach betta."

Kitty didn't look entirely convinced, but he seemed to be all right.  "Like, whatever.  Why don't you try to get us into the air?  I'll take care of Mr. Logan."

"Okee dokee."

Kitty brought out the emergency cot from a small closet and set it up in the aisle.  Kurt gave her a hand getting Logan onto it.  She bustled about grabbing blankets and a pair of scissors, and shooed Kurt to the front of the cockpit. 

He tried to start the plane.  

"Access Denied," the cool computer voice said.

"_Vas_?" Kurt muttered.  He pressed another button.

"Access Denied," the computer voice repeated.  "Please re-enter password."

"Gott in Himmel.  Zere's a passvood?  Ach.  Ve'll neva get out of here."

He pressed a few more buttons.  

"Access Denied.  Please say password again."

"Say ---  Vait a minute.  It's verbal?  Oh, boy.  Hm.  Ah, 'Pizza.'"

Nothing.

"X-Men."

Nada.

"Ah, Charles is God."

Nope.

"Logan is a drama kveen."

Kitty walked up next to him and glared at him.  And nothing happened.

"Ach!  Dammit!  You stupid sing!  Vee vant to go HOME!" he yelled at the control panel.

*DING*

"Welcome.  Kurt Wagner."  Everything lit up.  The engines even started.

"Yay!" Kitty yelled, running for the back.  "Like, let's go, Fuzzy!  I'll call Professor X!"

"Aye, captainette," Kurt replied, and started flicking switches, preparing for take-off.  "How's za patient?"

"Still out.  I cut his uniform off and covered him up, but that's, like, all I can do.  The Professor'll hafta get that stupid chip out of his head when we get back."

"Ja.  Ah you two backled in?"

Hearing nothing, he turned back to look.  Kitty was strapped into her seat, and he could see that she'd wrapped Logan in blankets and had strapped him into place on the cot.  She gave him a thumbs-up.

"Nice job, _Kätzchen_.  Here vee go!"

And Kurt blasted them off into the wild blue yonder, whistling as he charted a course for the mansion.  He checked his rearview mirror every once in a while, to watch Kitty, lost in thought, communicating with Professor X.  Life was good.  They were going home.  In spite of his sore back, Kurt was feeling rather proud of himself.  He and Kitty had just done what X-Men were supposed to do, and now he was flying a plane!  Solo! 

Kitty came over and put a hand on his shoulder.

"How's it going?" she asked.

"Jast fine.  Scott told me all about za Blackbird --- how to take off, how to steer, how to evade --- I can even turn on za radio!" Kurt replied, laughing.

"Wow!  Neat!"  

There was a pause, as Kitty stared out the windshield.  Finally, something occurred to her.

"Um, Kurt?"

"Ja?"

"Uh, did Scott ever teach you how to **land** this thing?" 

Kurt's eyes went very wide, and he turned a pale blue color.  "I knew I forgot somesing," he squeaked.

"Okay, like, don't panic.  I'll handle this.  Um, how far away are we?"  

"Uh, sree minutes."

"Jeez louise!  I'm calling the Professor again.  Maybe he can guide us in."

Kitty did some thinking (AN: which made her, like, way tired.  Oooh, I'm mean today!).  Within seconds, a large flat screen lowered itself into their field of vision and an image of Professor X appeared on it.  He looked exhausted, worried, and slightly annoyed.  "Kitty, Kurt," he acknowledged.

"Hi, Professor!" Kurt yelled, and waved like an idiot.

Kitty rolled her eyes.  "Professor, we're on our way, but Kurt is, like, landing-impaired.  Can you direct us, so we don't crash into the mansion, or land on the lawn, or something?"

"Yes, I'll help you land.  And as soon as we get Logan into the infirmary, I need to have a talk.  With both of you."

Kurt gulped.  Kitty paled.  

"Vell, uh, any time you're ready, Professor.  Guide avay!" Kurt said.

The professor helped them through the landing preparations, and within minutes, they were shooting through the secret waterfall entrance to the holding area.  With nary a bumpity nor a splat, Kurt brought the plane to a gentle halt.  

"Wow, Kurt, that was, like, good!" Kitty commented.  She rubbed his shoulder.  "I'm impressed, Fuzzy!"

Kurt's cheeks went purple.  "Oh, stop!" he said, waving her off.  "C'man, I see vee haff an escort out zere.  Betta get Logan to za ramp."

"Right."

They both shoved the cot toward the ramp, just as it finished opening and touched the stone floor.  Hank came lumbering up, followed by Ororo.  Each of the adults grabbed an end of the cot, and without a word to the two teenagers, hurried back down the ramp, where they transferred Logan to a gurney and wheeled him away.  Kurt and Kitty were irritated and puzzled, respectively.

"Vell!  Dat's gratitude for you!"

"Yeah, like, we saved Mr. Logan's butt!  Not even a 'thank you?'  Yeesh!"

~*~*~X~*~*~

Half an hour later, Logan was in surgery, and Kitty and Kurt were squirming in front of Professor X.

"An _accident_?" he finally asked, raising a proper British eyebrow.  "_That's_ your explanation for how the two of you ended up in Canada?"

"Yeah," Kitty said.  "We were, like, in the plane, and it just took off!  And I was like, 'Kurt, port us out!'  And Kurt was all, 'No, I can't port!  Too far, and waaaay too fast.'  So we, like, stuck it out.  But at least we were there to help Mr. Logan.  That's something, right?"

The professor looked at her.

"Yes," he conceded.  "You were there.  Unfortunately, Logan cloaked the plane, and Cerebro is down for repairs.  I wasn't able to locate either of you until you contacted me, Kitty.  I …"  He licked his lip.  "When the two of you didn't show up at school, and I found out that neither of you had gotten a ride, I …"

It suddenly hit Kurt why the professor looked so worn.

"Ve're really sorry, Professor," Kurt added.  "Vee deedn't mean to vorry you.  But, hey, look on za bright side --- at least vee deedn't keel anybody!"

The professor crossed his arms and glared at Kurt.

"I sink I'll shaht up now."

"Excellent idea.  You're both dismissed.  I would advise that you go and speak to your colleagues in the kitchen.  They were out looking for you."  

"Yes Professor / _Javol_, Professor."

They both got up and started to leave.

"Oh, and Kitty?"

Kitty turned around.  "Yes?"

"If you ever again feel the urge to hide in the Blackbird for 'privacy,' kindly repress it."  

"Sure thing, Professor."

~*~*~X~*~*~

Kitty and Kurt walked down the hall for a few paces.  Then they both stopped and let out the breaths they were holding.

"Man, I sought he vas going to keek our butts!" Kurt said.

"Totally.  Well, at least we can just go find the others and go, 'Ta-dah!  We're alive!'"

"I don't know, Keety.  Bad flights usually haff rough landings."

They walked into the kitchen together, Kitty hopeful, Kurt not quite so, and came face to face with Scott, Evan, Jean, and Rogue.  The other four X-Men were leaning on the counter, looking seriously pissed off.  They didn't even ask questions --- they just started throwing fruit.

A few minutes later, Kitty and Kurt were covered in food, blinking, as the other four stalked by them, noses in the air.  Kurt plucked a banana peel off his forehead and sighed.

"Jast like I said.  Bumpity, bumpity, bumpity, SHPLAT."

THE END


	10. Floating Like a Wafer

Summary: Scott gets Kurt to serenade Jean … with mixed results.

Category: Humor

Notes:  Everybody who's reviewing just ROCKS!!! :D  Kurt Plushies for you all!  Squeeze 'em and love 'em. :D  Here's some more cheer fer ya.

=== FLOATING LIKE A WAFER ===

Kurt whistled as he wandered into the kitchen.  He stopped, mid-note, with wide eyes.  It looked like a small tornado had hit.  There was flour all over the counter, utensils lodged in the walls, and food everywhere.  Scott Summers was sitting alone at the table, wearing a sauce pan on his head and looking very depressed.  He and Jean had been "together" for two weeks, and both of them were seriously stressing over finals.  Kurt took in the debris, and sighed.  They'd been overdue for a blow-up, anyway.  

"Whoa.  It's a sad state of affairs vhen za lady's upset, ja?"

Scott looked up.  "I am so stupid," he replied.

Kurt wasn't sure whether to argue this point or not, so he skipped the issue and quickly went into problem-solving mode.

"You know," he said, scratching his head, "I don't know if ziss applies in America, but in lots of places in Europe, vhen a guy screws up mit his voman, he gets anda her vindow sill, ant serenades her to say he's sorry."

Scott looked at Kurt in disbelief.  "You're kidding, right?"

"No."

"Have you ever heard me sing?"

"Uh, no."

"There's a reason."

"Vhat --- you turn into a pahmkin if you try?"

Scott snorted with laughter.  "No, I'm just tone deaf.  Serenading her would … Dude, she'd _break up _with me if I tried that."

"Oh, she vould not!"

Scott just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh.  You're zat bad, hah? … Sorry."

"It's okay."  Scott rapped his fingers on the table, and then suddenly brightened.  "But I think I know someone who _can _serenade Jean!  He does all the old favorites --- you know, 'Moon River,' show tunes, anything by the Beatles … he's fantastic."

"Hey, sounds good!  Who is he?" Kurt asked.

"You."

Kurt's bright yellow eyes bugged out in shock.  "NO VAY!  Besides, how did you know I do 'Moon Rivva'?"

"Are you aware of how loudly you sing when you take a shower?"

Kurt's cheeks went purple.  He crossed his arms, feigned snootiness, and replied, "I don't know vhat you're talking about."

"Please, Kurt, ya gotta help me."

Kurt groaned.

"Pleeeeeease?"

"I am SO going to regret ziss."

===X===

Scott had gotten the idea from reading Cyrano de Bergerac.  He would stand under the balcony of Jean's second story room, while Kurt would stay hidden up against the wall of the building.  Then Scott would mouth the words to a song, and Kurt would sing.

"Can you do Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair?" Scott asked, clicking his mouse.  "It's an old Stephen Foster ballad from the 1850's."  He was downloading the song off KaZaa.  Kurt plucked the lyrics out of the printer.

"But Scott, Jean has _red_ hair.  Za line doesn't verk."

"So change it." 

"Okie dokie."  Kurt started marking up the paper with a pen.  He figured he should at least do a good job with this.  "Hey, Scott?"

"Yeah?

"Vhat I do about mein accent?"

"What about it?"

Kurt rolled his eyes.  "Vell, it's not American.  It might teep her off."

"Oh, that's right.  Shoot!  Hmm."  Scott snapped his fingers.  "Okay, I got it.  Kurt, here's the three things you have to remember: pronounce your 'r's, and make a good 'th' noise, and most importantly, every time there's a 'v' noise at the beginning of a word, make a 'w' noise instead."

"Oh, is DAT all!"

"Uh uh," Scott said, shaking a finger at Kurt.  "Not 'Dat,' That.  THTHTHTHTHat."

For the next fifteen minutes, they had a 'caveman conversation,' with Scott demonstrating consonant noises and Kurt trying to repeat them.

"Okay," Scott finished.  "So there you go.  I burned you a CD, here's the lyrics, and I think you're all set.  Let me know when you're ready."

"Vill do.  Dis is going to be great!"  

Scott glared at him.

"I --- I mean, wwwwill do.  Thththis is going to be grrrrrrreat!" Kurt finished, with a goofy smile.  

He tucked the CD into his clothes, put the lyrics paper in his mouth, and bounded out of the room on all fours.  Scott sighed.

===X===

Scott spent two days in Jean's doghouse while Kurt figured out Jeanie with the Light Brown Red Hair, in-between gobs of homework and Danger Room sessions.  He made sure he worked quietly, alone and away from anyone who could hear him.  After a breakthrough on Friday night, he was ready.

He tapped Scott on the shoulder at breakfast on Saturday, and nodded.  Scott nodded back, with a relieved grin.  Since it was the weekend, most of the Institute's students were at the park or the mall.  But a few people were still home, including Jean, who finished her cereal and announced that she was going up to her room.  She looked pointedly at Scott and said, "And I don't wish to be disturbed."  Then she clomped out.

The dynamic duo took that as their cue.  They put their dishes in the sink and ran out of the kitchen.

===X===

Scott and Kurt dashed around the outside of the mansion until they arrived at Jean's bedroom window.  Kurt flattened himself against the wall under Jean's balcony, and gave Scott a thumbs-up.  Scott returned it, cleared his throat, and called up to her.

"Jean?  Look, I know you said you didn't want to be disturbed, but can we talk?"  

Silence.  

"Please?"

After a long pause, the window finally opened.  Jean leaned out, her elbows on her balcony, and looked down at Scott.

"What."

"Jean, I know I was an idiot, and I want to make it up to you. I, uh, I have a surprise."

Jean raised her eyebrows.  "Really?  What is it?"

Scott cleared his throat, shot a meaningful look at Kurt, and began to "sing," with Kurt's rather impressive baritone (and overdone American accent) coming from his mouth.

_I drrream, of Jeanie, wwwwith ththe light rrrred hairrrr,_

_Borrrne__, like a wwwwafer, on ththe summerrr airrr…_

Jean raised an eyebrow.  Born like a wafer?  Scott, for his part, looked at Kurt in horror.  Kurt was oblivious.  He kept singing.

_I seeee herrr trrripping, wwwwwhere ththe brrright strrrreams play!_

_Happy as the daisies thththat dance on herrr wwwwway!_

The mouth movements weren't quite matching up.  Jean started giggling, much to Scott's distress.

_Many wwwwwerrre the wwwwild notes herrr merrrry wwwwoice wwwwould pourrrr…_

After "merry woice," she started to giggle harder.

_Many wwwerrre the bliththththe birrrrds thththat wwwwarrrbled them o'errrrrrr!_

_I drrream, of Jeanie, wwwwith the light rrrred hairrrr,_

_Floating like a wwwwafer, on ththe soft, summerrr, airrrr. _

By the time Scott finished his "serenade," Kurt was panting in exhaustion, and Jean was laughing so hard she was crying.

"Scott, that was the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" she managed, between giggles.  "And it totally wasn't you.  Who's helping you out down there?"

"Uh ---"

"Oh, never mind."

She used her telekinesis and heard a small shriek.  After a moment, Kurt floated into view.  He gave her an embarrassed grin and waved.

"Hi, Jean.  Nice day, ah?"

Jean gave him a once-over.  "Are you here of your own free will?"

"Of course!" Kurt replied, a little insulted.  "Scott needed mein help!  Besides, you sink I vould humiliate myself for anybody but you two?  Now, ziss nonsense has gone on long enough!  Stop fighting and forgive him!"

Kurt crossed his arms and glared at her like a stern papa, even though he was dangling precariously in mid-air.  Jean smiled lovingly at Scott, then turned back to Kurt.

"I just did.  By the way, the word is 'vapor,' not 'wafer.'"

"But Scott said to make all ze vees double-yous, and I couldn't very vell say wwwwwapor.  It makes no sense!" Kurt argued.

Jean rolled her eyes and lowered him gently to the ground.

"Besides, who is to say zat vafer cookies don't float?  Zey are light, ja?"

Jean just shook her head at him.

"He volunteered for it, Jean," Scott said.  "I wanted to serenade you, and he knows I can't sing to save my life."

Jean blew a strand of hair out of her face and smiled down at Scott again.

"Come on up."

Scott grinned at her and turned to go back into the house, when he saw that Kurt was following him.

"Uh, Kurt?"

"Ja?"

"Why don't you go serenade somebody else?"

"Vhat, now?"

"Yeah."

Scott turned and left Kurt standing there on the grass, his tail flicking despondently.  Message received, loud and clear.

Or not.

===X===

Kurt skidded to a halt under another second story bedroom.  He straightened his shirt, cleared his throat, and bellowed …

_I dream of Keety, vit za light brown hair,_

_Borne like a vapor, on za summer air!_

Kitty ripped her window open and yelled, "Kurt, shut UP!  I'm trying to study!  What the heck are you doing, anyway?!"  

Kurt snorted.  "It's called _singing_, Keety.  I helped Scott serenade Jean, and then he said, 'Kurt, go serenade somebody else.'  So I here I am!"

He spread his arms like, "Ta-dah!"  Kitty pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Yeah, like, here you are.  Kurt, that was Scott's way of saying 'Get lost.'  He didn't _literally_ mean 'go serenade somebody else.'"

Kurt's face fell.

"Sorry," Kitty added, seeing his disappointment.

"Man, diss sahks.  I help him get his girlfriend back, and he cuts me loose like nussing!"

Kitty felt a little pang of pity for the furry elf.  "Well, I like, know I'm going to regret this, but … lemme hear the rest, blue boy.  Come on."

Kurt happily obliged, and when he was through, Kitty was looking at him thoughtfully.    

"I'll be right back."

She disappeared for a moment, and returned with a small bag.

"I know if the chicks like it, they're supposed to throw roses an' junk, but like, all we've got is potpourri!"

She shook out the bag of dried flowers and cinnamon sticks over the balcony.  Most of it landed on Kurt.  He laughed and brushed it out of his hair.  _Aw, he looks so cute covered in crap_, Kitty thought.

"Come on up, Fuzzy.  I need some help with my German homework."

And she winked at him.

It took Kurt a second to get over the shock, but he did, and gleefully 'ported into her room.  The jump was so intense that it knocked off all the potpourris.  Kitty's offering stayed outside, floating down through the summer air, and landed on the grass where he'd just been.   

THE END


	11. Hop

Summary: It wuzza dahk and stohmy night, 'yo.

Rating: **PG-most-definitely-13**.  Mayhem, violence, blood, cursing (including variations on the "s" word and one mention of the "f" word) … the whole shebang.

Category: **Angst**, with any luck.  That's right.  Not Humor, **Angst**.  Please see the following Note.

Spoilers: Nothing direct, but just make sure you've seen "The Toad, The Witch, and The Wardrobe."

Note:  Sorry it took so long to get this up, but it was a difficult story to write.  Why was it so hard, you ask?  Well, taekwondodo reviewed, clued me in on rating stuff properly so as not to scar her children (thank you) and requested an Angst story, and Lady Bevier reviewed and requested a Toad story.  So I basically wrote … an angsty Toad story with Kurt.  O­_o

I don't know if there are a lot of angsty Toad stories out there, and I am not really clear on what Angst is in the first place, so ladies, I apologize in advance if this sucks.  It's a real leap for someone like me, who writes mostly humor.  And like I said, it was really hard to write, because neither of these characters lend themselves particularly well to high drama.  Not only that, but it got LONG!  It's a three-parter!  

Anyhow, on you go, dear reader.  And both of you chicas, if you see this note, please review and let me know how I did, for better or for worse.  (I'm suspecting 'for worse.') LOL

As for everybody else, as always, you rock.  To quote my compatriot Scrawler, "Woot!!!"  Cheers all, and enjoy.  This is …

HOP.

Kurt Wagner's brain was functioning far too slowly for his taste.  He was about fifteen minutes into this fiasco, and he had yet to formulate a coherent thought.  His yellow eyes darted about in horror.  Everything around him was dark.  When lightning lit it up, it was outrageously threatening and ugly.  And it was loud!  How did it get so goddamn loud?  He could hear people screaming.  The chuff-chuff of boots against soft ground.  The click-click of weapons.  Kurt had been in tight spots before, but as tight spots went, this one was a doozie.  And the present situation defied all logic.  

He was kneeling in the mud in Bayville's central park, without his inducer, water dripping into his eyes from the rain.  His heart was throbbing painfully against his sternum.  His right arm was hanging limp and bloodied at his side.  He was surrounded by dark shapes that were shouting and aiming weapons at him.  It was just your run-of-the-mill angry mob, the last thing he expected to see in America.  The stupidity and hate that had forced him to leave Germany had apparently followed him across the Atlantic.  

The mob was dangerous, but hardly surreal.  No, the surreal part of this situation was that he was holding Toad, of all people.  Toad, who he considered a menace to society.  Toad, who should have been quarantined by the Department of Public Health.  Toad … who was an unconscious, bloody mess.  Kurt shook his head as the Brooklynite's blood began to drip into the earth.  It was unmistakably red.  _Funny_, Kurt thought.  _I sought he vould bleed green, for some reason_.  

The shapes started to close in like imaginary lions, like a trick of the darkness and his own imagination.  But they were as real as the weapons they carried.  Lightning streaked across the sky again, and thunder boomed.  He saw what he was up against.  It was the whole group of dumb bastards from the gymnasium.  He and Toad were completely surrounded. 

_Dammit.  It's Winzeldorf all over again! …_

After a hard day of classes and study hall and stage tech, it was just too much.  Too big.  Too scary.  Too awful.  This disaster was whisking his memories with his nightmares, and the result was an acrid batter of adrenaline, rage, and terror.  He lashed out the only way he could --- with his teeth.  A loud, cat-like hiss escaped his lips.  He squinted his eyes so they were only pinpricks of light against the darkness.  And he menaced them all with his fierce fangs.

The gathered crowd took a step back.  Kurt hoped that would give them pause … but clicking told him that six more guns had just been cocked in his direction.

"_Sheisse__,_" he murmured.

Guns.  Blood.  Weakness.  Weight.  He wanted to escape, but he was tired, and injured, and a person that he truly detested was dying in his arms.  Key words being "person" and "dying."  As much as he hated Toad, it wouldn't do to leave him here at the mercy of the mob.  But a vanishing act was looking less plausible with every second.  Running was out of the question.  His legs were aching fiercely from the chase and besides, he couldn't lift Toad with one good shoulder and evade thousands of bullets at the same time.  Not even "the amazing Nightcrawler" could pull that one off.  And teleportation was hardly an option; Toad was bleeding all over the place.  With his injuries, a trip like that would certainly kill him.  

The crowd was inching closer, and Kurt felt his heart start to really hammer.  He could see the mad gleam in their eyes, the senselessness, the hate.  They were maybe five feet from the two boys on all sides.  Lightning lit the world again.

"Mutie!  Freak!"

"I wanna shoot the demon!  The frog boy ain't moving anymore!"

"Shut it!  All of you!  Let's just kill 'em both and get it over with!  I'll count to three!"

click click clickety click clickety click click click click click clickety clickety click clickety click

It was finality, death, posing as sound.  Time slowed to a crawl.  Kurt glanced heavenward.  If there was ever a time for a sign, it was now.

"One!"

He looked down at Toad.  The other guy opened his sickly, yellow-green eyes, just for a millisecond, and spat blood.  

"Two!"

That clinched it.

"Thr---" 

**BAMF!**

===.X.X.X.X.===

Kurt popped onto the lawn of the Institute, just inside the automated defenses.  The lasers began to fire almost immediately.  The furry blue mutant avoided their blasts by a combination of inborn bodily impulse and sheer luck.  Of all the 'ports he'd ever done, that one had to qualify as the worst.  He'd never had such violent vertigo in his life!  The grace of God got him to a safe spot behind a tree, where the firing seemed to stop.  He fell over with a grunt, dropping Toad in the process, collected his shaky thoughts, and reached out to Professor Xavier.

**_Professor!  Professor!  I need help!_**

**_Kurt?  Kurt, thank goodness!_**

**_Professor, Toad , he …_**

**_I know.  Stay put, Kurt.  We're coming to get you.  Don't move!_**

The doors to the mansion swung open.  Scott Summers and Jean Grey, followed by Logan and Evan Daniels, burst out of the mansion, disabling the security devices.  The scene on the lawn was like something out of a war movie.  Toad was stretched out on his back, bleeding profusely.  Kurt, next to him, was on all fours, vomiting like he was trying to expel an alien life form.  Finally he spluttered to a stop, his arms shaking.  

"Holy crap," Logan muttered, hurrying over and helping Kurt up.  "Elf, what the hell happened?"

A deep, throaty cough exploded out of blue teen.  

"Just, get, Toad, inside.  And call …"  He coughed again.  "Call Dr. Silverman."  He spat.  "I sink ziss is beyond Mr. McCoy." 

===.X.X.X.X.===

Kurt was right.  Hank McCoy, affectionately known around the Institute as "Beast," was an astute scientist, and the closest thing the X-Men had to a doctor.  But he would just be assisting on this one.  The professor's telepathic summons had brought him to the infirmary, where he was prepping a surgical table.  Steven would be here any minute, as would the two patients.  

Just as Beast snapped on a huge pair of sterile gloves, a gurney bearing Toad came rolling through the door.  It was followed by a swarm of upset mutants, Kurt (who was leaning heavily on Rogue), and a lot of general strangeness.  For one thing, objects and medical supplies seemed to be moving on their own.  Gauze was flying every which way and being pressed down on Toad by invisible hands.  Beast smirked.  Dr. Silverman was officially "on call."  

"I know you're nervous, Steve," Beast said, as the gurney stopped.  He hooked a breathing mask over Toad's face and started to insert an IV.  "But you really should turn off the cellophane effect.  Don't want anyone bumping into you while you have a scalpel in your hand."  

"Ha ha," came a wry voice.  A white outline of a busy doctor appeared, and then snapped fully into view.  He had brown hair and a strong jaw, bags under his eyes, and blood on his t-shirt.  "You're just lucky I was in town!  My wife and I are leaving on a cruise tomorrow."

"Oh, my!"

"Yeah."  He glanced down at Toad and then back at Kurt.  "Two GSWs?  What the hell happened?"

Ororo Munro ran in, just as he posed the question.

"Don't ask me," Beast quipped.  "I just work here."

"Rogue, help Kurt to this bed, here," Ororo said, also pulling on sterile gloves.  "I'll take care of him.  Logan, you get everyone else out of here."

Everyone who'd accompanied Kurt (Kitty, Rogue, Evan, Jean, Scott, Amara, Jubilee, Bobby and even little Jamie) all looked irritated.  Kurt just nodded at them with a little smile.

"I'll be okay.  I'll talk to you guys outside, ja?"

They all muttered assent and left with Logan.

===.X.X.X.X.===  

The waiting was agony.  After fifteen minutes of silence and watching the others, Logan was ready to yell at everyone to sit down and quit twitching.  But since he was twitching too, sitting on the bench and nervously jogging his knee up and down, he decided to keep his mouth shut.  Rogue, next to him, was staring at her shoes.  Kitty was chewing her left thumbnail.  Evan was shooting toothpicks from his fingers, just to do something.  Scott was pacing, trying to figure out what he'd just seen on the lawn.  Jean was running off, with the excuse that she was going to see Professor X.  She technically didn't need to talk to him face to face, but she wanted desperately to be out of that hallway.  Everybody was thinking way too loudly.  Amara and Jubilee were whispering with wide eyes.  Bobby was making a tiny ice sculpture as a way to focus his thoughts.  And Jamie was standing at the door, his face smashed up against it, trying to see what was going on inside.  

"C'mere, Squirt," Logan said.  "You'll get smudges on the glass."

Jamie pouted, even as he hurried over.  Rogue smiled and slapped her lap.  He climbed into it.  She got him securely around the waist.  "Is Kurt gonna be okay?" he asked Logan.

"Oh yeah, he'll be fine," the older man replied.  "He's tough.  The thing I can't figure out is what happened to Stink-Boy."

No one else had a clue, either.  Logan could tell that the night would be a long one.  Conversations of various degrees of seriousness started, fizzled, died, and were reborn out of sheer boredom until the professor came wheeling down the hallway, Jean at his side.  He looked tired.  Everyone nodded politely at him, pleased that he had come to wait.  They all sat around and shot the breeze, and the talk turned to what happened to Kurt and Toad.  

"Well, I'm sure Kurt will tell us in a few minutes," the professor said.  "His injuries weren't that serious.  Storm should be done with him soon."

"I heard Beast say 'GSW,'" Bobby said.  "That's 'gunshot wound,' right?  Where'd they get hit?"

"Kurt was lucky.  He got hit in the arm.  Toad, unfortunately, was shot twice in the abdomen.  Steven and Hank have a good deal of damage to repair.  He lost a lot of blood."

The hallway was silent and still, for a very long moment.  Nobody liked Toad.  Still, it was a shock to hear something like that.  

"Hey, Professor?" Kitty asked, finally.

"Yes?"

"Should we call the Brotherhood?  I mean, I know they're bad and icky and all that, but this is like, an emergency, and they might be out looking for Toad.  We should totally tell them what happened, ya know?"

The group reaction was mixed: horror, shock, wondering if Kitty had lost her mind … 

"Yeah, sure.  Let's call 'em, tell 'em their friend is on the verge of death, and wait for 'em to show up here in a rage and destroy stuff!" Logan snarled, once he recovered.  

"Kitty, are you crazy?  Those kids are dangerous!" Scott added.

"They're also his friends!" she argued.  "It's the right thing to do."

"No it's not," Evan cut in.  "They're jerks, and they suck.  And for all we know, Toad could be the one who hurt Kurt in the first place!"

Kitty snorted.  "Oh, yeah!  Right, Evan!  First he shot Kurt, and then he was like …"  She pointed an imaginary weapon at her stomach and yelled up at the ceiling.  "Oh my God!  The horror!  I'm such a bad person!  Bang  Bang!"  She lowered her imaginary pistol with utter contempt.  "That is like, the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"Well then you give me a better explanation, smart ass!"

"Hey!  Whoa!" Scott barked.

His voice was lost as everyone started yelling at once.  Violence looked imminent.  The professor began to rub his temples, as the long day caught up with him.  

"Stop it," he said.

His voice was no louder than usual, but everybody shut up.  

"Kitty's right.  Telling the Brotherhood is the right thing to do.  I'm going to call them, and we'll … take it from there."

Ignoring the rising noise level behind him, he wheeled off towards the nearest phone.  Everyone in the group looked after him with scowls on their faces, except Kitty, who looked rather pleased with herself.  That was, of course, until the scowls turned on her --- then she just looked miffed.  Logan was about to suggest (in his usual polite manner) that they clear out of the hallway, when Ororo opened the doors of the infirmary.

Silence.  Blinking.  Expectation.

"Here he is," she said, and gently shooed Kurt out to see his friends.

Considering what he'd been through that evening, he looked okay.  Ororo had insisted he take off his uniform, which had been soaked through with rain and blood --- his and Toad's.  He was just standing there in a pair of white boxers, his tail swishing gently from side to side, with a blanket around his shoulders.  The rain had soaked his fur beyond the efforts of Ororo's towel-drying and Kitty realized, not for the first time, that Kurt was marvelously cut under all that fuzz.   His right arm was bandaged from shoulder to elbow, and hung in a sling.  He was also moving slowly, padding towards them a bit unsteadily on his two-toed, furry feet.  But then he gave them all a goofy smile.  Rogue wanted to stand up and go to him, but she was holding a sleepy Jamie in her lap.  She looked around.  The others seemed to be just as relieved as she was.

===.X.X.X.X.===

It took ten minutes before everyone finished saying hello to Kurt.  The professor wheeled back into their midst.  Kitty looked at him expectantly.

"Nobody was in," he said, answering her unspoken question.  "I left a message on their machine."  He saw Kurt.  "Ah, Kurt!  How are you?"

"Better.  Anybody know vas going on viss Toad?"

Most of the assembled shook their heads "no."  They'd seen neither hide nor hair of Hank or Steve, and it was approaching eleven.  Bobby yawned, and seemed to pass it on to Evan.  Rogue smiled.  She was now standing, holding Jamie over one shoulder; the younger boy was out like a light.

"Vell, I'm going to the kitchen.  I need somesing to drink."

"Yeah, let's all go," Scott said.  "I don't think I can sleep, anyway."

"I'll make some tea!" Jubilee said, bounding ahead and dragging Amara along.

"How about some flat ginger ale and crackers?" Kitty asked, taking Kurt's good arm and leading him out of the hallway.  "Settle your stomach?"

Kurt smiled at her.  "Ah, Keety.  You know me too vell."

To Be Continued …


	12. Hop, Part Deux

HOP, Part Deux.

===.X.X.X.X.===

Lightning crackled across the sky and thunder boomed.

"TOOOOOOAAAAAD!" Fred Dukes bellowed.  He could clearly be heard over the wind. 

"Hey Toad!" Lance Alvers hollered.

"Where-the-hell-are-you, man?" Pietro Maximoff yelled.

"Toad, where are you?" his twin sister Wanda echoed.  "God, please don't be hurt," she muttered.  

They had been wandering around Bayville's central park for about an hour, now, trudging through the mud and the rain, calling for their friend.  None of them would admit it to any of the others, but they were all worried as hell.  It just wasn't like Toad to not come home.

"Paging-Todd-Tolensky!  Todd-Tolensky-to-lingerie!"

"TOOOOOOAAAAAD!"

"I've got some nice tasty flies for you!" Wanda screamed.  The rain was the only response she got.  Water was dripping down her bangs and rolling off her stylish trench coat.  She growled unhappily.

"This isn't working," Lance pointed out.

He was right.  After getting a lead from some terrified Junior at BHS, their sojourn through the park was proving unsuccessful.  They were all tired, grumpy, and soaked.  The group stopped under a tree, to take shelter for a minute and think.

"There must be some reason he's not answering us," Lance reasoned.  "Maybe that asshole lied to us, and he's not here?"

"Or maybe he's back at the house waiting for us!" Fred said.

"Or maybe he's dead," Wanda threw in.  "I'm not suggesting that's a good thing!" she added, catching Lance and Fred's dirty looks.  "Yeesh."

After about ten seconds of foot tapping, Pietro got bored.  "You-guys-keep-looking," he said.  "I'm-gonna-go-home-and-see-if-he's-there."  Whoosh!  He was off like a bottle rocket, a white blur against the dark sky.

Thirty seconds later, he was back.  He looked positively peaked, and was utterly speechless.  Everybody turned to him, ignoring the rain pelting their heads and shoulders.  Pietro, with nothing to say?  Lance's antenna went up.

"Pietro, what's going on?  Is he there?"

Pietro shook his head.

"Well then what is it?"

Pietro opened his mouth.  His first two attempts at speaking were unsuccessful, but the third time, he managed to spit out, "Toad's-been-shot."

"WHAT?!" Wanda shouted, a bit louder than she would have liked.  "What the hell do you mean, 'shot'?!  By WHO?!"

"I-dunno.  Professor-Dweeb-left-a-message.  Toad's-at-the-mansion.  He-took-two-shots-in-the-gut!  They're-workin'-on-him-in-the-infirmary.  We-gotta-call-'em-back."

"Fuck calling him!" Lance decided.  "Let's just get over there and ring the bell."

"Ring the bell?  The Brotherhood don't ring any bells!  We just charge in!" Fred argued.

"Shut up, Fred!" Wanda countered.  "They've got Toad, and it's their territory.  We can't afford any trouble."

"Trouble?  Hell,-we-can-barely-afford-the-heating-bill!"

"Can it, Pietro!  Let's move out, people.  Come on."

===.X.X.X.X.===

The kitchen was unusually crowded, for so late at night.  Kurt was sitting at the table, alternating sips of flat ginger ale and tea with honey, and talking with everyone else.  The dizziness was gone, which was a relief.  Rogue had slipped off to put Jamie to bed.  She came in once most of the spots at the table were filled, and grabbed a tea mug from the counter.  The professor was sitting at the head of the table, dunking his tea bag up and down in his mug.  

Bobby was the first to ask.  "So, Kurt, what happened?"

"Vell …"

BING BONG!  

"They're here," the professor said, suddenly.  "Kitty, please get the door and show them into the kitchen."  Kitty immediately complied, dashing off through the nearest wall.  "Kurt, can you hold off on the story for a second?"

"Uh, sure.  Who's here?" Kurt asked.

"The Brotherhood."

"Vhat?"  His voice cracked with nervousness.

Logan snarled.  "They better behave themselves."

"They will, don't worry."

Kurt didn't look very convinced of this.  His face had just gone a pale shade of blue.  Scott put a hand on his shoulder.

"Kurt, it's okay.  We all need to know what happened."

Footsteps and voices got closer from beyond the kitchen door.  It banged open and in stepped Lance, Fred, Pietro, and Wanda, all wet from the rain and looking angry.  Kitty followed them, looking a little unsure.  Lance saw Kurt.

"So what the hell happened?" he asked, without preamble.

"Sit down ant you'll find out," Kurt replied, putting up his "macho" shield.

The Brotherhood sat, most of them with wary looks.  Fred sat down on the floor so as not to break a chair.  Kitty went and dutifully sat down next to Lance.  The professor looked at the entire group of gathered mutants.  "All right Kurt," he said pleasantly. "Now that we're all here, let's have it."

"Vell, okay," Kurt began.  "It vas 9 o'clock, and I vas going home.  Toad ran past me, running from a lot of people viss guns.  Zey vere from an Anti-Mutant meeting.  Zhey looked like zhey vere going to kill him, so I tried to help.  I ran and vawned him to get avay."

===.X.X.X.X.===

Kurt was working curtains, spotlight, and moving stuff for Bayville High's upcoming production of "Kiss Me Kate."  He'd stayed late with the rest of the crew, to clean up after the dress rehearsal.  So he was walking along to the X-Van in the parking lot, whistling, minding his own business, when along came Toad, screaming like a girl and hopping past him at an amazing clip.

Kurt was confused --- until he saw Duncan Matthews and about sixty other guys trailing Toad, yelling and calling him a "Mutie."  And then Duncan pulled a gun.  Kurt was a bit alarmed.  But when all the rest of the guys pulled guns too, he realized this would get really ugly, really fast, if he didn't do something.  So he ducked behind a tree, turned off his inducer, and teleported to the top of a nearby church.  From his new vantage point he saw Toad hop into the park and stop in a clearing, so he appeared beside him (scaring the crap out of him) and warned him that Duncan and his friends all had guns, and that he should make himself scarce.

Toad told him to shove it.

===.X.X.X.X.===

"He asked me to leave."

===.X.X.X.X.===

Kurt was pissed.  "Vhat part of 'zey haff guns' don't you get?  Ant speaking of vhich, vhat za hell did you DO?!"

"Nunna ya beeswax, yo."

That was when a twenty flopped out of the pocket of his torn jeans.  Kurt noticed that Toad's pants seemed to pooch out everywhere.  And then it hit him.  All those guys trailing Toad had been in one of those dumb Anti-Mutant meetings in the school gym.  Toad had, in his own way, just waged an enormous protest.  He had single-handedly cleaned out the wallets of everyone in attendance, most likely thumbed his nose at them … and hopped away.

"Mein Gott!  You IDIOT!" Kurt yelled, grabbing him by the collar.  "Zey know vhat you are!  Zey'll KEEL you!"

"They can't catch me, yo, an' neitha can YOU!  Blaff!"

Toad slimed him in the face and hopped away, leaving Kurt cursing and pulling at the gluey crap on him.  He managed to get it off, and took off at a run after Toad.  That was when he heard footsteps.  He ducked into some shadows and listened.  It was the crowd.

"Oh, hell."

Kurt dashed away across the wet earth, and teleported up a few feet.  He landed in a tree and looked around.  And then heard it: a girly scream, followed hard upon by a gunshot.  He gritted his teeth and teleported toward the source of the noise, and by luck, landed a few feet from Toad, who was hopping like crazy.  He saw Kurt and glared at him, but kept running.  Kurt kept pace with him.  They both burst into a clearing.  The shouting behind them was getting closer, competing quite well with the rain.  

"Toad, I can get us out of here!  Take mein hand!"

"Dammit, ah said get LOST!"

===.X.X.X.X.===

"Vee both ended up running from the mob togezzer.  Vee ran srew za park, and ended up in a clearing."

===.X.X.X.X.===

Kurt and Toad hid behind the nearest tree.

The mob burst through the clearing right after them.  Kurt peeked around the tree and took in their opponents.  It was frightening how many people there were, but what really scared him was the fact that they were being hunted down by kids they went to school with.  He had walked among these people in the halls.  He even recognized one of the students from his History class.  

He stuck his neck out too far.  Someone spotted him.  

"God!" someone yelled.  "There's two of 'em!  And one of 'em looks like Satan!  Open fire!!!"

And they did.

"Ah, _SCHIESSE_!" Kurt yelled, as a bullet ripped through his arm.  

===.X.X.X.X.===

 "Zey started shooting, and I got shot."

===.X.X.X.X.===

It wasn't like the movies --- it really hurt.  His arm didn't feel broken, but it was throbbing and bleeding like crazy.  It is a singularly horrifying sensation to have one's own blood dripping down one's skin, anyway.  Everything about it is wrong: the ooziness, the unexpected warmth, the fact that is outside, when it should be inside.  Kurt dropped to a crouch and ran as best as he could on two legs, because he was using his left hand to clamp his right arm.  Toad was ahead of him, nearly a silhouette against the pouring rain, screaming like a girl and yelling, "Aw God, I don't wanna die!"

They ran on through the brush, practically blind from the night and the rain.  Scattered noises behind them told Kurt the mob was close.

"We got 'em on the run, now!" came a voice.  "Everybody fan out!"

Kurt and Toad looked at each other in horror.  They turned and ran … and smashed right into a Senior.  Kurt fell over on his butt, and the Senior nabbed Toad by collar.  Toad panicked and slimed the guy.  The boy screamed, dropped Toad, and turned to getting the sticky crap off his face.  And then Toad did the strangest thing.

He helped Kurt up.

"Look, I ah, I changed mah mind, yo.  Can you get us outta here?"

Kurt glared at him, opened his mouth to say something, and bang!  Another shot.  It whizzed by Kurt's nose so closely that he felt wind.  The mob had caught up with them.  

===.X.X.X.X.===

"Zey caught up vith us, and … mein Gott.  Everysing happened so fast afta zat."

The table was silent, looking at him, expecting him to finish the tale.  He gulped.

===.X.X.X.X.===

Someone shot out of the darkness and grabbed Toad, who was fighting to escape.  At the moment, he was struggling to slip out of his shirt, to get away.  Kurt was in his uniform.  He looked around frantically, but someone grabbed him from behind, right around his throbbing arm.  He yelped in pain and lashed out with his tail.  There was a frightful clickety-clack noise as someone readied a gun.  

"Get outta here, man!" Toad yelled, his eyes bugging out.  "Save yehself!"

"_Nein!_"  

**BAMF**

Kurt was out of his captor's grip and made for Toad, well aware of the guns trained on him.  He swung his tail around in a low roundhouse, knocking the guy holding Toad to the ground, and stood up.  And then Toad was up, looking towards the bastard with the Glock … He was hopping up in front of Kurt … He was pushing Kurt out of the way … 

Bang.

Bang.

And he was down, falling through space like a leaf, a stunned, terrified look in his eyes like Kurt had never seen.  It felt like it took him ages to hit the mud.

"Toad!" Kurt screamed.

"GOT HIM!" roared the guy with the gun.  

Kurt knelt in the mud and set Toad's head in his lap, heedless of the people around him.  His face was dead with shock.  Toad was coughing, and spluttering, and crying.  Blood was leaking out of his belly, staining his dirty shirt and pants.  Kurt smelled something rancid and realized, in shame, that the guy had wet himself.

"Aw God, take yeh damn money!  I don't wanna die!" he cried.  And he was sincere.

"Shut up," Kurt heard himself say.  "You'll bleed out if you don't calm down."

And Toad shut up.  Shut up, passed out, lost consciousness … whatever you want to call it.  Kurt's thought train slowed to a crawl.  They were surrounded.  The guns were readied.

"One!" the leader shouted.

"Two!"

===.X.X.X.X.===

"Vee vere surrounded, and zhey vere going to kill us, and he … he jumped in front of me.  Vell, maybe it vas more of a hop," Kurt finished quietly.  "He got hit twice in za gut.  Don't ask me vhy he did it --- it vas probably an accident."  Kurt had only a second to ask himself why he was lying.  The answer was simple: for some strange reason, he felt that Toad wouldn't have wanted to be called a hero. 

The Brotherhood gave him dirty looks.  Evan just blinked at him.  Logan looked down at the table and scratched his nose.

"I 'ported us out of zere.  I know it vas very dangerous to try it viss an injured person, but it vas za only vay to escape."

There was silence at the table for a second as everyone took this in.

"So the mighty Toad miscalculated," Evan said, crossing his arms triumphantly.

"Put-a-sock-in-it,-Prickly."

"Oh, what's up, QuickDick?  Can't face it that your boy's a loser?" Evan replied, and stood up to face Pietro.  

"I'd-rather-have-Toad-on-my-team-than-you.  In-fact,-I'd-rather-have-a-lump-of-cement-on-my-team-than-you!"

"Both of you sit down and shut up!" Logan snapped.  "Now!"

Lance wasn't even paying attention to this.  He just snorted at Kurt.  "You're a moron.  Look, we're all Toad's friends, but we also know he ain't got no sense.  When you offered to get him out of there, you shoulda just said, 'No argument!  We're gone!'  But 'ya didn't."  ("Lance!" Kitty shrieked.)  "Instead, 'ya let it drag on and on, and he got shot.  As far as I'm concerned, this is all your fault, Freak Show."

"Oh my God, I did not just hear that!" Kitty murmured.

Kurt stood up in a rage, and faced Lance across the table.  He felt his face curl up into a demonic snarl.

"You stupid son-of-a-bitch.  You talk about him being your friend, but you didn't even go looking for him until it vas too late!"

"You don't know what you're ---"

"I vas dere vith him!  Vhere vere YOU!" Kurt thundered.  

It startled the entire kitchen.  Everyone was staring.  Lance looked a bit stunned.  He had no idea Kurt could shout like that.  Kurt pushed his chair back so hard that it fell over, and stalked away.  

"Kurt, please," the professor called, in an effort to bring him back.

"I've told my tale, Professor.  You all heard it.  I'm leaving.  _Gute__ nacht_."

To Be Continued … 


	13. Hop, Part Trois

HOP, Part Trois

===.X.X.X.X.===

The clock struck midnight, and there was still no word from the infirmary.  Most of the others had gone to bed.  Only Kitty, Rogue, Evan, Lance and Pietro were still in the kitchen.  Wanda was sleeping in the living room, and Fred had gone back to the boarding house for something.  Rogue was there because she couldn't sleep, and the tea was good.  Evan was there to keep an eye on Pietro --- as if he could stop the guy from doing anything.  Kitty had first tried talking to Lance.  That didn't work, so now she was just yelling at him.

"I can't believe you said that to him!"

"What, the truth?"

She screeched in annoyance and disgust.  "You make me like, so mad!  He's not a freak, Lance!  He's my friend!  And he made sure Toad didn't die!  You better apologize!"

No one saw him, but Kurt was lurking just outside the kitchen door, listening in.  It warmed his heart to hear Kitty standing up for him.

"Apologize for what?" Lance replied, in his irritatingly smooth manner.

"Apologize, for accusing him, of screwing, up," Kitty said, emphasizing every word she could.  "Now."

They stared each other down.  Lance seemed to get smaller and smaller under Kitty's angry eyes, and he finally relented.

"Okay, fine.  Fine!"

Kurt picked his moment and walked in.  

"I didn't sink anyone vould still be here," he said, meandering over to the counter to get another cup of tea.  "Any news?"

"Kurt!" Kitty said, walking over to him with a smile.  "Lance has something he wants to say to you."  She turned Kurt to face Lance, and nodded at her boyfriend.

Lance moaned.  "Here goes my reputation, Kitty.  I hope you're happy."

===.X.X.X.X.===

Beast stretched, and finished securing the ace wrap.  It was 2 in the morning.  He and Steven looked down at their handiwork.  Toad was lying belly-up on the operating table, wrapped from chest to hip in bandages, the anesthesia tube still sticking out of his mouth.  Dressings, coverings, bloody gauze, and empty blood packs littered the floor.  Ororo, manning the anesthesia machine, looked positively exhausted.  She was draping a bed with clean sheets as she pushed it over to the operating table.  

"There.  That's it," Steven said, stripping off his gloves.  "You know, he looked like hell when he came in, but I think he'll live.  It's always good to help a fellow mutant in need."

Beast blinked at him.  "I take it you've never met Toad."

Steven didn't know what to say to that.  "On three.  Ready?  One, two, three!"

They picked Toad up and gently set him on the bed.  Ororo got his tube hooked up to a ventilator.  She pressed "assist."  Toad had stopped breathing on his own about three minutes into surgery.  It was slowly coming back (he was taking every third on his own), but it wasn't enough.  Beast threw a blanket over the kid and checked his IV.  Steven wrote a few prescriptions for antibiotics and pain medication should they need more.  Then he shook Beast's hand, and Ororo's, and disappeared (literally), with a parting wave.

"You know, I'm sure it's just because I'm so discombobulated," Ororo said, "But that looked like magic."

Beast smiled and put an arm around her.  "It was," he said.  "I'll stay here and monitor him until morning.  You go and get some sleep."

===.X.X.X.X.===

The sun came out early in the morning, and the dew on the garden plants shone like diamonds.  The storm was over.  At eight a.m., Kurt and Kitty were both walking towards the infirmary.  Kitty yawned and stretched.  

"So, 'ya think Toad made it?"

"Ja, I'm sure.  If he hadn't, everyone vould know by now."

"Good point.  …  Look, Kurt, I know Lance and the other guys were being jerks, but if it's any consolation, I think you did the right thing by bringing him here."

Kurt smiled at her.  "_Danke_."

She smiled back, sort of shyly.  They wandered in.  Lance, Pietro, Fred, and Wanda were all gathered around a bed.  Kurt and Kitty exchanged a look, and came over to join them.  The heart monitor was beeping softly.  If not for the breathing mask and all the IV's, Toad could have been asleep.  He'd been cleaned up.  Lance was looking at him critically.  He shot Kurt a brief look, then hailed Beast.

"Hey.  Mister."

Beast looked up from the infirmary organizational area, where he was sitting with a bowl of cereal.  "Yes?"

"We need a couple of pillows over here."

"Oh?  What for?"  Beast asked, abandoning his breakfast to get to the linen closet.

Lance looked distinctly uncomfortable.  "They're, um, for Toad.  If he keeps his legs straight too long, his knees start to ache."  Beast tossed him some pillows, and he nudged Pietro.  "Get those blankets off of him for a second.  Wanda, bend his legs up real good … there 'ya go."  Fred, across from him, was holding up a paper bag.  "What's that?"

"His jammies," the large boy said.  "For when he can get out of that hospital gown."

Kitty and Kurt were standing a few feet away.  They watched this in astonishment, and felt almost like voyeurs, like they weren't supposed to see this.  Beast tapped Kurt on the shoulder.

"How's the arm?"

"Better.  How's Toad?"

"Pretty well, considering.  We got the slugs out, patched him up, gave him a few transfusions, and there doesn't seem to be any sign of infection.  Of course, he'll need to be monitored here for at least a week before we can release him." 

"A-week?  But-that's-like,-forever!"

Lance rolled his eyes.  "Dammit, Pietro, you've been into the coffee, haven't you!"

Pietro looked down.  Lance sighed.  Just for a second, he seemed old.  He turned to Beast.  "He'll be okay, right?  I mean, he won't walk away from this and be permanently damaged, or something?"

Beast sensed the concern in the young man's voice.  He put a hand on Lance's shoulder.  "He will absolutely be okay, and the damage is certainly not permanent.  My guess is he'll be up and about in a month, and picking pockets again in two."

"What?"

"He had an enormous amount of cash stuffed in his pants," Beast replied.  "I'd venture to say that was the main reason the mob started chasing him."

"You said it was an Anti-Mutant meeting!" Lance protested, pointing at Kurt.

"It vas.  But za reason zhey all came afta him in za first place vas because he stole all zeir money."

There was a pause as the Brotherhood took this in.  A statement like that would have outraged other people, but they just looked down at Toad proudly.

"That ballsy son-of-a-gun," Lance said, his eyes shining. 

"Heh heh, that's ma' boy!" Fred added, ruffling his friend's hair.

"We'll-make-the-bills!  Yay!"

Fred and Pietro celebrated and slapped five.  Wanda rolled her eyes.  Kitty leaned on Kurt and smiled a little.  

"Unfortunately, all the money was wet from the rain," Beast said.  "It was ripped to shreds when he fell in the mud."

The celebrating stopped.  They all groaned together.

"Well, at least he tried," Fred said.  "That's worth somethin', right?"

===.X.X.X.X.===

The professor came in at ten to relieve Beast and check on Toad.  The scene he found brought a smile to his face.  Kitty and Kurt were sitting with the Brotherhood, and talking.  They weren't arguing, or fighting, or threatening each other … just talking.  Kitty was even laughing.  Kurt looked relaxed.  They were discussing the Anti-Mutant meetings, and Lance was kicking around the idea of staging a real protest.

"I mean it!  We should follow Toad's example, and protest for Mutant Rights or something!" he said.

"I dunno," Fred replied.

"Blob,-'I-dunno'-is-your-answer-for-everything!"

"Leave him alone!" Wanda said, smacking her brother.

But the laughter at Pietro's retort drowned out the tiny call of "Hey!"  Even when the raspy word got louder, nobody noticed it.  Until finally …

"Hey!"

Everyone jumped.

"Hey!  Couldja all shaddap?  I'm tryin' ta sleep!"

They ran for the bed.  Toad was blinking up at everybody, looking extremely annoyed.  Fred smiled, as did Lance.

"Welcome back, buddy," Lance said.

===.X.X.X.X.===

The professor finally had to shoo the Brotherhood out, because Toad needed his rest.  Kitty had left with Lance and the others, and the professor was off cleaning a stethoscope.  It was just Kurt Wagner and Todd Tolensky, and the silence between them.  Toad finally broke it.

"Whaddid 'ya tell 'em?"

"Zat you miscalculated a jump.  I couldn't screw up your heinous reputation by saying you saved my life."

There was a brief pause as Toad considered this.  He looked at Kurt sincerely and said, "Thanks."

"Actually, I should be sanking you."

Toad squirmed.  "Yeah, yeah.  Don't get all mushy on me!"

"But I am curious as to vhy."

Toad licked his lips.  "I did it 'cuz I owed 'ya," he said, finally.  "'Ya helped me out with Wanda.  She don't hate me no more, thanks ta you."

"Ja, she took longer to get disgasted viss you, I notice."

"Yeah."

"Vell, I'll see you."

"Whatever, man.  Just keep yeh mouth shut."

"Vill do," Kurt said, a smile coming to his lips.

"You betta.  Just 'cuz ah saved yeh ass don't mean I like you, yo."

"I could say za same."

They looked at each other.

"Enemies?" Toad asked, holding out his left hand for a shake.

"Enemies," Kurt agreed. 

They shook on it.  The professor raised his eyebrows at Kurt, and the blue mutant turned to go.  He was almost at the door when Toad called out behind him:

"Take care a' yehself, ya blue furry asshole."

Kurt grinned.  "Feel betta, _schwanz_."

And he left.

THE END

Notes: Whew!  That's it.  Congratulations on surviving this wad o' crap (I didn't think I did too well), and let me know what you think.  Like I said, it was really hard to do --- but that doesn't mean if you hate it you should go easy.

Toad's knee thing is not my idea.  I got it from reading … dang it, I can't remember the title.  It's a recent one, and it's really good.  Lance gets these headaches that prevent him from using his powers or he'll die … Help me out, here.  He has this scene with Toad, where Toad's trying to walk like a normal guy so Lance doesn't feel bad about using his powers, and Lance says, "Toad, quit it.  You know if you stand normally it makes your knees ache."  I just thought it was so sweet!  Kudos to that author, whoever it is.  

The next one will be a funny, I promise.  It's called, "Princess."  Keep your eyes peeled for it! :D

Peace and love,

Kiki 


	14. Princess

Note: You'll have to excuse me.  I'm coming out of cardiac arrest.  **100?**  This thing broke the 100 mark for reviews?  You people are **AWESOME**!!!  I have stuff I want to say to everybody, but with so many reviewers, I'm just going to wait until I'm done with the Project and then give the world's biggest shout-out.  Because, let's face it, the biggest bummer is to read a fanfic, see an update, get all excited, and then it's only responses to reviews.  So I'm going to wait.  I hope that's okay with everyone.

Extra Note, concerning "Hop" --- The information that I got regarding Toad's knees is from a particularly touching scene in a fic titled "Day by Day."  It's by Kizmet.  The story revolves around Lance and the side-effects of his powers.  Even though I'm not a devoted Brotherhood fan (I like them but I'm not obsessed with them), the quality of the writing kept me going to the last word.  I don't care if you hate Lance and the Brotherhood.  YOU MUST READ IT.  It's that brilliant.

Summary: This piece, "Princess," takes place within The Stuff of Heroes.  It happens right at the end … kind of.

Spoilers: The Stuff of Heroes, and the "mytharc" events leading up to it.  (Basically, you just need to know what's going on.)  That's why I updated this now --- "Stuff" just ran tonight on Cartoon Network in the U.S.  :D

Rating: PG-13.

Category: Humor.

My continued love to you all.  Thank you so much for your support and commentary.  On we go!

=== PRINCESS === 

Charles Xavier, cradled in Scott Summers' arms, let out a soft moan and scrunched his eyebrows.

"Easy, Professor.  Everything's gonna be okay."

Scott was kneeling on the slimy floor of the drained stasis tank, supporting his mentor's head and shoulders.  Jean Grey was right next to him.  The other X-Men stood behind them, unsure of what to do.  Rogue was exhausted, leaning on Evan.  Kurt was blinking, engaged but clearly tired.  Kitty was rubbing her arms, trying to get warm.  Bobby was flapping his uniform in an attempt to cool off.  They'd all just come from knocking Juggernaut off the dam, and making the news.  Logan, who'd slipped in a few seconds ago to congratulate Scott (grudgingly), was quietly talking to the army guys around the tank.

"Mr. Summers?  Miss Grey?  We need your opinions on something," Corporal Whatever said behind them.

Professor X still hadn't moved.  Jean patted his wet leg and left to go talk to the Army.  Scott sighed and stood up.  He looked pointedly at Kurt, who bounded over and took his place, supporting the professor.  Kitty went, too.  

The corporal began to ask Jean and Scott questions about the Juggernaut, and getting their "grown-up" opinions on how and why he escaped.  Kurt quickly lost interest in the conversation and looked down at the professor.  He was limp and heavy in Kurt's arms, damp and bedraggled from the stasis fluid.

"Poor guy," Kitty said.  "He was stuck in this nasty jelly jar for like, what?  A week?"

"Somesing like zat."

The professor moaned again.  Kurt and Kitty quickly looked at him.  And then he opened his brown eyes, blearily taking in the two teens, who were looking at him in delight.  Kurt's face lit up with a grin.

"Hey!  Professor!  How ah you?"

The professor, in response, heaved in a quick breath and vomited all over Kurt.  Then he passed out again.  Kitty's mouth was hanging open.  Kurt turned to her, with a copious amount of acid-green puke splattered across the chest of his uniform.

"Vhat did I say?"

"Eww!  Nasty!" Kitty said, standing up and backing off.

Jean and Scott were there in a second, taking the professor from them.  A single whiff of Kurt and they backed away, too.  Kurt put his fists on his hips and glared at them in annoyance, but they were too busy with the professor to notice.  They turned him on his side, and just in time.  Still unconscious, he threw up again on the floor of the stasis tank.  Jean rubbed the older man's shoulder.  

~*~X~*~

Storm and Beast arrived from Washington a few minutes later, and they took the Blackbird back to the non-mansion.  The flight was practically silent.  Most of the X-Men were sleeping, Scott was concentrating on flying, and Kurt was sulking in the back.  He was sitting on a hard bucket seat in the "infirmary" area, wrapped completely in a blanket, on the pretense of keeping an eye on the professor, who was swaddled up in covers and laying peacefully on a roll-out cot.  Since Xavier was still asleep, there was nothing for Kurt to do but ponder and obsess.  

So he did.  His "exquisite costume" was on the seat next to him, wadded up and sealed in a white garbage bag.  It sloshed around whenever the plane hit turbulence.  No doubt the professorial puke, rolling around in the bag with his uniform, would ruin every inch of the damn thing.  Kurt knew it was silly to bemoan a piece of fabric, but he was irritated --- mostly with himself.  Why hadn't he done his laundry earlier?  Perhaps if he had, he would have been wearing some underwear under his uniform, and not sitting here with only a blanket protecting his privates from the public eye.  As near as he could recall, all of his jockey shorts were in one of the washing machines, below ground at the mansion.  At least Defcon 4 had spared the subterranean levels.  It was a small mercy.  Normal life, or what passed for normal at the Institute, would be a long time returning.  He sighed and leaned his head back against the wall of the plane.

The first order of business, he knew, would be to get the professor into the subterranean infirmary called the Med-Lab.  He wanted to help with that, but it would require free hands.  So he wrestled with the blanket, and finally he was draped and covered.  The effect was somewhere between Julius Caesar and Yoda.  A couple of safety-pins, and … there!  It looked a bit swishy, and he felt a little ridiculous, but that was okay.  At least now he could help out.

The second order of business, on coming home, would be to put his underwear in the dryer.  And wait.

~*~X~*~ 

Everyone was milling around the basement dining area, looking a bit lost.  The professor was under Storm and Beast's care in the Med-Lab.  Jean, Scott, and Logan were in there, too, meaning that the other X-Men and the new recruits had no one to answer to, at least for a little while.  Kurt wandered in, wearing his makeshift toga and carrying the white garbage bag.  A portable fan was going, and the artificial breeze blew the blanket up against him.  Evan saw this and started laughing immediately.  

"You owe me ten bucks, Bobby!" he yelled to the Iceman, who, appropriately, was digging around in the refrigerator.  "Kurt's got nothin'!"

Kitty, who was sitting at the table with Jamie, Roberto and Rahne, watched the exchange with interest.  

"What do you mean, 'he's got nothin'?" she asked.

"Ja, vhat do you mean?" the blue furry teen asked, not liking where this was heading.

"Kurt's not wearing anything under that blanket!" Evan said, and laughed.  "You can totally tell!"

Kurt, completely embarrassed, flushed purple and darted into the nearby laundry room.  Most of the people at the table started laughing.  Bobby poured himself a glass of milk.

"That wasn't nice, Evan!" Kitty scolded, and ran after Kurt.

Evan snorted.  "That wasn't nice, Evan!" he mimicked.  "Man, what crawled up Kitty's butt?"

"Well, Jean's with the perfessor," Rogue drawled, wandering in as Bobby chugged his drink.  "Guess someone has 'ta be the bitch."

Bobby laughed so hard he blew milk out his nose, which entertained Evan and Jamie immensely.  Rogue just rolled her eyes and went to the fridge.

~*~X~*~

Kurt was cursing in German and digging around in one of the washing machines, his tail flicking this way and that, as he retrieved every item in the small, nearly-dry load of underwear.  Anyone could tell this was Kurt's underwear --- each pair had a large hole in the back.  He hated the contortions he had to do to get his underpants up where they belonged, and his tail through that hole.  It could make getting dressed quite a pain.  

Kitty ran to his side and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Ah!" he yipped, and slammed his head into the cabinet above the machine.

Stumbling back, he took in the cheerful laundry room and a very apologetic Kitty.

"Sorry," she said.  "Kurt, what the heck are you doing?"

"Vashing mein clothes," he muttered, rubbing his head.  "I need to put my _gatkes_ in za dryer," he held up the garbage bag, "ant put zis stinky sing in za vash."

"Oh.  Well, here!  Let me help."

She took the garbage bag from him and emptied the contents into another washing machine.  They landed inside with a *shplorp* noise and Kitty made a face.  Kurt kept gathering his "gatkes," plucking them up one by one, and tossed them in the dryer.  Kitty turned on the washing machine, then thought for a second.  Had she finished her own laundry?  She began to check the other washing machines, and was overjoyed to see that her beloved collection of cute t-shirts had survived the carnage of the upstairs, safely tucked away in one of the machines.  The load was even clean.  She gathered up her shirts and emptied them into the dryer along with Kurt's underwear.  Kurt smiled.  He threw in an extra dryer sheet and pressed the button to start the machine.  

Neither of them really felt like going back into the dining area, so they plunked themselves down on the floor to wait.  It had been a very long couple of days.  Hours and hours of hiding out in caves, battling a lunatic on a dam, and finding Professor X had taken their toll.  

Kitty yawned first.  And as everybody knows, yawning is highly contagious.  Kurt yawned, too.

"Jeez. I don't know about you, but these past days have been like, an unqualified disaster," Kitty said, curling her legs up to sit Indian style.

"I agree," Kurt replied.  "Za haus is gone, school vill be hell, za Juggernaut escaped, my muzzer messed viss everybody, and za professor barfed on me."

Kitty laughed.  Of all the things to complain about!  "Yeah, that was like, The Vile Projectile.  I was totally freaked."

"So vas I.  It vas pretty scary, seeing him like zat."

"Mm."

Kurt yawned again.  Kitty looked at him and for the first time that day, realized he was looking pretty haggard.  There was no place for a cat-nap in the underground levels, as far as she knew.  She bit her lip and took a chance.

"Hey Kurt, you wanna lay down for a second?"

Kurt blinked at her.  "Vhere?"

She patted her lap.  Kurt grinned, but decided to be a good boy.  He flopped down on the floor, on his side, put his head in her lap, and fell asleep almost immediately.  Kitty leaned back against the throbbing dryer, content with the warm, furry weight balanced between her knees, and conked out as well.  The lights in the washing room were motion-sensitive.  As soon as the two teens stopped moving, they went out.  

~*~X~*~

Evan got the good news fifteen minutes later.

"Kitty!  Kurt!" he yelled, running in and turning on the harsh, bright lights.

Kitty and Kurt both woke up and felt much like baby kittens --- disoriented and blind.  The dryer went off.  

Evan was talking a mile a minute.  The professor was awake, he wanted to see everybody right away, blah blah blah.  Kitty didn't catch the rest.  "C'mon, Kitty!" Evan yelled, and grabbed her arm.

"Wha --- Whoa!  Evan, hey!  Ow!  Kurt, 'ya oughta be wearing somethiiiing!" Kitty yelled, her voice trailing off as Evan dragged her from the room.

"Okay!" Kurt called after her.  He dug into the dryer, blearily pulled out two items, threw them on, and discarded the toga.

~*~X~*~

Professor Xavier was seeing things from an entirely different perspective.  First of all, he felt alive again.  Being tossed into that vat of goo and feeling his brain actually shut down had not been a pleasant experience.  Secondly, he was looking up into the faces of many of his students, who were babbling things like, "Hi!" and "Glad you're feeling better!" and "Professor, you'll never believe what happened!"  Behind them, in the distance, were ceiling tiles.  It finally occurred to Charles that his position had something to do with the unique view --- he was completely horizontal.  A blanket was tickling the underside of his chin.

"Storm and Logan filled me in on a few of the details," he said.  "I'm so glad all of you are safe.  Storm?"

Ororo's face popped into view.  "Yes, Charles?"

"I'd like to be elevated slightly, if you could."

"Of course."

He heard a beep and a hiss, and the world began to rotate around him.  The blanket fell away.  Click!  He was in a near-sitting position.  Much better.  He got a better look at everyone around him, and took in the situation.  He was clean, dry, warm, in bed, and conscious.  All good things.  Evan ran in, with Kitty in tow.  She saw him.

"Professor!" she shrieked happily, and ran over.  "You're all right!"

Kitty was one of the most open, loving people at the Institute, in her own mindless way.  She just plowed right through the row of more respectful, "stand back" type students and hugged the professor.  Charles laughed and returned the favor.  

"I should like to see Kurt, too, if that's possible," he said to her.

"Oh, he'll be here in a minute.  He's just getting changed."

"Getting changed?"

There was a big pause in the room.  Apparently everyone knew that the professor had barfed on Kurt … except the professor.  He looked around.

"Am I missing something?"

"Well, ya were pretty sick when ya woke up, Chuck," Logan said.

"Ah ha ha!  Up-Chuck!" Bobby parroted, and started laughing.

Roberto shoved him.  That knocked him into Jamie, causing a few of the little boy's multiples to dump out onto the floor.  The multiples all rubbed their heads, mumbled, and glared at Roberto.

Charles put on his stiff upper lip.  That seemed to quell the giggling, for the moment. "What happened?"

Scott sighed.  "Jean and I were talking to the military representatives, so I left Shadowcat and Nightcrawler with you.  Taking in all that stasis fluid was pretty hard on you --- you threw up all over Kurt.  He's putting on clean clothes."

"Goodness!"

Charles was about to say something else when everyone heard heavy breathing and the distinct, muffled patter of two fuzzy feet.  

"I'm here!  I'm here!  Vas is going on?" Kurt yelled, running in.  He was bleary-eyed and clearly off-balance.

Everyone stared in shock.  

In his haste to get to the Med-Lab, the furry teleporter had put on two ridiculous items of clothing --- tiny red briefs with a little rocket ship on them (a Christmas gag gift that he'd taken to wearing under his uniform), and one of Kitty's t-shirts, so short that it didn't even hit his belly button.  It was a little pink number that stretched hard across his chest and said "Princess," in sequins.  

"Dios Mio," Roberto muttered, and crossed himself.  "It's da goddamn end of the world."

Logan raised an eyebrow.  "Elf?  You, uh, ya got somethin' ya wanna share?"

But Kurt didn't hear either of these remarks --- everyone else was laughing too hard, slapping their knees, crying, etc.  Everyone, that is, except the professor.  

"Well," Charles said kindly, "I believe someone needs to finish his laundry."

Kurt was baffled.  Evan, ever the opportunist, got out a disposable camera.

"Hey, Kurt!"

Kurt turned around, in a fog, and Evan and took a picture.  Ducking his Auntie O's hand, he scampered out, accompanied by most of the new recruits.  

"Are you all right, Kurt?" Charles asked.

"Ja, fine," he said, trying to shake off the flashes in front of his eyes.  "Just glad you're okay, Professor."

"I'm well, thank you."  He turned to the remaining X-Men.  "Why don't you all go now, and see if you can help Logan get the underground cubicles set up.  You all need rest after what you've been through."

The team nodded and left, herding a sleepy Kurt out in front of them.  Evan was waiting in the hall, holding up his camera.  The team was trying to hold back their snickers.  As soon as the Fuzzy One was more awake, all the fun would be gone.  

~*~X~*~

The next day, the professor was up and about, wheeling around the underbelly of the Institute.  He was inspecting the damage down below.  Most of the kids had dug through the rubble top-side and retrieved some of their possessions --- clothes, hairbrushes, books, etc. --- but there was practically nothing left of the above-ground building.  The Danger Room was blown to hell, too.  They would have to almost completely rebuild the manor.  Charles sighed.  His checkbook was going to take a major hit, he could feel it.  Wheeling into the kitchen area, he saw that the kids had put up a bulletin board, to make the place a little more cheerful.  There were notes reminding people to pick up certain groceries, one terribly-spelled note reminding Kitty not to drink milk from the bottle (he raised an eyebrow), and a whole lot of pictures that Evan had taken.

Some showed Scott and Logan putting up the sleeping cubicles.  A few others showed Scott and Logan having a fight while putting up the cubicles.  There was one shot of each "breakfast shift," all the kids in each making the peace sign at the camera … and about six pictures of a dazed and confused Kurt, in his lucky rocket ship underpants and Kitty's baby tee.  The poses got increasingly ridiculous.  Straight on.  Over the shoulder.  Stalking towards the camera.  Leaning on a wall.  Lounging on the table.  A close-up, with a kissy face.  And finally, silly celebration.  

Charles just shook his head and wheeled away, laughing.  For all the evolving that went on here, there were some things about this place that he hoped would never change.

THE END


	15. Three Drabbles

And now for something completely different.  I will attempt a genre of fanfiction that I have never touched: the Drabble.  Drabbles are, if I understand correctly, pieces that are really, really short.

All three of these drabbles seem to involve Kitty.  Don't ask me why.  There is no Kurtty in these, so those who have not yet embraced the idea need not fear.

=== 3 DRABBLES ===

~@~ Kitty's Haiku ~@~

Kitty Pryde moaned in frustration.  She was hunched over her desk, scribbling.  It was past midnight and she still hadn't finished her English assignment: "Write a haiku.  It must be clever, or inspired.  Due Tomorrow!" --- which was technically today.

**BAMF**

"Kurt, go away."  

Kurt ignored her.  "Vassap, Keety?  Vhy ah you up so late?"

Another moan.  "I have to write a stupid haiku for English, and it's supposed to be inspired, and I can't think of anything!"

"Hmm.  Vell, you know, sometimes, inspiration is jast seeing za everyday in a new light."  She felt his hand, warm and fuzzy, on her shoulder.  "You'll sink of somesing.  _Güte__ nacht_, Keety."

A smile.  "Thanks, Kurt.  G'night."

**BAMF**

She stared down at the paper.  Then something hit her, hard, and the words started flowing.  5-7-5, she reminded herself, and counted syllables on her fingers.  She looked down at the results.

_white-black__ smoke fans out_

_yellow__ eyes blinking at me_

_that__ smile --- nuts but nice_

_the__ horror!  a snake_

_slithers__ 'round my waist, but no …_

_it__ is just his tail._

_you__ can always tell_

_when__ Kurt's been in the kitchen …_

_all__ the food is gone._

Laughing, she crossed the first two out (too revealing).  But she read the last one again, and grinned, and realized she had her haiku.  

THE END

~@~ Mr. Fluffle ~@~

Kitty was flying over Chicago, wearing her pink pajamas.  Her stuffed dragon, Mr. Fluffle, was tucked under one arm.  

"Whee!!" she yelled, and flew over downtown, the wind in her face.  

Suddenly, her flight slowed.  And like some sort of awful carnival ride, she dropped like a stone.  Her jowls were flapping from the wind, her eyes were rolling back in her head from the G-force, and she was screaming, and falling, and falling …  

Just before she hit the cement, she woke up in a cold sweat.  She was lying on a bed in a very dark room, on top of the covers, panting.  Assuming she'd kicked the covers off herself during her nightmare, she crawled under the blankets and tried to go to sleep.  

She felt around in the dark, trying to locate her stuffed animal.

Had she only looked up, she would have realized that her dragon was phased halfway through the ceiling above her, along with most of her bedding.  That damn falling nightmare was vicious --- and the result was always the same.  Only this time, instead of landing in a basement, she'd landed in someone else's bedroom.

Snuffling about with closed eyes and quivering breaths, she felt something big and fuzzy next to her and without hesitation, wrapped her arms around it and snuggled.

"Mmm.  Mr. Fluffle," she murmured.

Trapped in her grip, Kurt Wagner's eyes went wide as dinner plates.

THE END

~@~ The Note ~@~

It was Kitty's birthday, and Kurt had bought her a cute t-shirt to replace the one that he'd accidentally stretched out a few weeks ago.  It stated simply, "I'm Cute" on the front, and "Hug Me!" on the back.  Of course, the thought of her wearing it around Lance was gag-worthy, but he knew she'd like it.  He carefully placed it in a box, wrapped it, and set about writing a note.  

That night at dinner, a few of the students gave Kitty presents.  She opened a joint present from Scott and Jean --- leg warmers and a bag of coffee.

"I know you just started ballet.  The leg warmers are for class.  You'll need 'em when the mornings get cold," Jean explained.

"And you stay up so late, we figured you could use some coffee, too," Scott added.

Kitty smiled.  The use of "we" was not lost on her.  "Aw, thanks, guys!" she said, and hugged them both.

After a pet rock from Evan ("Isn't it cool?") and a pop CD from Rogue ("B'leeve me, it's tha most painful purchase ah evah made,") Kurt handed her his present.  Kitty kept the note for later, opened the box, squealed over the shirt, and was very happy.

Later, alone in her room, she read what Kurt had written.

_Deer Keetee,_

_Happie__ Burthday!  Hope u like this shirt.  I peeked it out because it vass kül, like u. :)  Sorree für the bad spellink, I am trying too gett better.  Ennyway, hope u like the pressent._

_Luv__,_

_Kurt_

Something about the unruly scrawl and innocent sentiment, not to mention the horrific spelling, touched something in her.  She felt her eyes getting puffy.  And when Kurt knocked on her door a few minutes later, he found her sitting on the floor, holding his note, and crying. 

He was a bit alarmed.  "Keety?  Vhat happened?"

"Nothing.  You're just, like, really sweet, an' junk," she said simply, wiping her eyes.  She sniffed, and looked at him.  "Don't ever change, kay?"

Kurt smiled at her.  "I vouldn't dream of it."

THE END

Yee ha!  Drabbles rock!  What fun!  Well, I suppose now's as good a time to say this as ever: the Project is starting to wind down.  I have a quick Kurtty (run for your lives), at least one other story, and then it should be time to write the grand finale.  

Much luv too u all,

Kiki


	16. Push

Summary: A one-shot set after "Impact." 

Spoilers: Impact.  

Category: Drama

Note:  I wish I'd gotten this up faster.  Thanks once again to everybody who's reviewing!  Enjoy!

=== PUSH ===

Kurt lay in his bed and blinked up at the ceiling, dazed and tired.  The last 24 hours had been, for lack of a better term, a "real humdinger."  He laced his six long fingers behind his head and tried to get comfortable while he pondered the stage-floor trap-door situation that seemed to be his life, and watched his tail flick around under the covers, making lumps pop up and fade away into the fabric.  He sighed.  His tail, which he was convinced had a mind of its own, seemed to be okay.  The rest of him was not.

After all, his sister had just killed his mother.

It was all very sad, in a classical Greek tragedy sort of way.  He didn't know which bugged him more: the fact that Rogue had dumped Mystique off a cliff, or the fact that he felt so removed from the event.  And so soon, too!  This numbness was very unsettling.  He wondered if it was just the calm before the storm.  Perhaps when he went to sleep, he would feel something, maybe have a nightmare or two.  But somehow, he knew that wasn't going to happen.  

It was really weird.  This woman, for all her faults (and she had a LOT of them), had brought him into the world.  He had been the only one at the Institute who cared that she'd been turned to stone.  He was the only one who felt he had a duty to help her.  And he tried to.  And now she was gone, smashed into pieces at the foot of a cliff, more than likely already out to sea.  By all rights, he should have been wandering the halls, crying, tearing his hair out in grief.  But he wasn't.  He was here, snuggled quietly in his own bed, not making a peep.  He scratched his head, cursing quietly in German.  As distressing as it had been to lose his mother, his own reaction (or lack thereof) was distressing him even more.

"I did grieve," he muttered, if only to convince himself.

After Rogue decided to use Mystique for a shot-put, he had howled over the loss for about an hour, then teleported back to the house and collapsed on the common room couch in exhaustion.  Someone had lain a blanket over him at some point, and he slept fitfully by the fire.  But today, he took a shower, got dressed, ate breakfast, went to school, came home, had dinner with everybody else, and did his homework.  It was business as usual.  He hadn't said a word to Rogue; he didn't trust himself to speak to her.  And now he was alone, appropriately tired, waiting for sleep to take him.  Kurt knew from experience that it would be a long time coming.

A thought bubbled up to the surface of his mind and he said it aloud, just to hear if it made sense.  "It's not zat I don't feel, but zat I don't feel enough."

That left him more depressed and confused than ever.  He knew he didn't feel enough.  But what was enough?  How much of his heart could he really spare for a woman who used people like Kleenex?  He sighed again and slipped his hands out from behind his head.  It wasn't an easy question to ask, and he had no answer.  He didn't even have an answer for a more basic query.  Why did Rogue do it?  Asking her point blank was suicide.  She would probably just start yelling and carrying on, or maybe stomp away in a snit.  And if she was really mad, there was always the "touch of death" option.  He couldn't deal with either.  

There was a knock.

"Hey, Kurt?" he heard from the other side of the wall.  "Kin ah come in?" 

Speak of the devil.  Kurt blinked at his bedside clock.  One in the morning.  Well, that wasn't unusual.  Rogue was a night-owl.   He composed himself, and sat up in bed.

"Um, sure," he said.

The door opened and the hallway light spilled in.  Kurt squinted.  Rogue stumbled in, bleary-eyed and unsure of herself.  Kurt noticed this immediately, but didn't say anything.  He just watched her.  She left the door slightly ajar, allowing a sliver of light to peek in, and turned to playing with the hem her white pajama shirt.  

It seemed to take Rogue ages to get to his bed.  By the time she'd sat down on the edge, Kurt was sitting cross-legged on top of the covers.  His tail was going crazy.  He grabbed it to keep it still, lest it get loose and flick his visitor onto the floor.  He made sure to keep his face blank.  The last thing he wanted to do was provoke her.  

The moonlight coming in through the window caught all the wrong planes on Rogue's face and hands as she curled her legs underneath her, stared at the pattern on Kurt's comforter, and played with her shirt.  She looked about a hundred and two.

There was a long pause.  She let out a breath and licked her lips.

"Ah'm sorry."

Kurt blinked at her.  "Vhat?"

"Ah'm sorry."  Quieter, this time.

Kurt scratched his nose thoughtfully and said the first thing that came to mind.  "Me too."

Rogue raised an eyebrow.  "Whut?  Whut tha hell are you sorry for?"

He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, searching for something to say.  He'd really just pulled that out of nowhere. 

"For being an idiot," he said.  That sounded good.  It was probably true, anyway.

Rogue rolled her eyes.  "You stink at lyin', Kurt.  Y'ain't sorry fer nuthin'.  Yer probably mad as hell at me.  And ah don't blame ya either way."

He panicked.  "Vhat?  _Nein_!  I --- I --- No!  I mean, I didn't …"

"Shh."

That noise was all it took.  He shut up.  They were both a little embarrassed.  Rogue stared out the window and scratched at an itch under her chin.  Kurt eyed her for a moment, and then turned his attention to a particularly fascinating bit of wall.  She spoke, and it was like gravel.  It was so quiet that he almost didn't hear her begin.

"You wanna know why ah pushed her?" Rogue asked.

Kurt gulped.  "Not unless you vant to say."

"Hm."  She pushed some hair out of her face.  "Ah pushed her because … because she pushed you."

He shook his head, trying to make sense of that.  He couldn't.  "Huh?"

Rogue snorted.  "Kurt, thank about it.  That woman never did nuthin' fer ya in yer whole time in this worl', save bringin' ya into it.  She dropped ya off that bridge.  But if she was any kinda mother, she woulda picked ya up again.  Hell, if she was any kinda mother, she woulda tol' me she was mine, 'stead a lettin' me find out by touchin' her."

She stopped for a second, and Kurt looked down in defeat.  Everything Rogue said was right.  He didn't have a good rebuttal.

"Hey."

He looked up.  "Ja?"

"That ain't everything."

"Oh?  Vhat else is there?"  There was a bitterness in his voice that he couldn't hide.

Rogue ignored it and continued quietly.  "The things ah saw in her head.  Ah been her, Kurt.  She's crazy.  Some of the things she done, some of the things ah 'remembered' … Lord.  She hurt lotsa people.  She hurt you, and she hurt me, and she was ready to hurt all of us here at the school.  Again.  Worse than before.  Ah don't know if she was alive in there, or if she was dead, but either way, ah wasn't gonna … gonna let her hurt nobody ah love."

Her voice was cracking all over the place.  Kurt had been staring at the bed during her tale, fearing that if he looked at her, she would stop talking and he would never know the story.  But when she sniffed, he looked up.  Her hair was flopping into her face.  Tears were hanging on her cheekbones like dew.

"When ah pushed her, and she smashed inta pieces, and ah saw you down there, weepin' and yellin' and cursin' tha universe an' all that, ah got so damn mad.  Ah said to myself, ah said, 'Son of a bitch.  That horrible woman's gettin' her revenge from ba'ond the grave.  She's makin' mah brother cry.'"

Rogue couldn't go on.  The tears kept coming, silently, plopping down the front of her shirt.  Kurt's golden eyes were wide with shock.  It was only when he swiped his hand across his cheek and felt his fur matted and damp, that he realized he was crying, too.

He did the only thing he could.  He ripped one of his pillowcases free, threw it over Rogue's head so as to not accidentally touch her face, and drew her in for a hug.  She was fully covered, and he was wearing pajamas, so that took care of the rest.  He held her and she shook and sobbed and hugged him back.

"Sha, sha," he whispered, rocking her.  "It's okay.  It's not like she vas my _mamma_."

"Yeah, but she was yer mother," came the muffled reply, accompanied by a sniff.

Silence.  Kurt thought about this for a moment.

"Considering vhat you told me, and vhat I know about her, if I had to choose between knowing mein muzzer and mein _schwester_, I vould pick you in a heartbeat.  You haff to know zat."

He would have said more, but his throat was closing up.  

More silence.  A hitching breath.

"Thanks."

He coughed.  "Vas dat you viss the blanket last night?"

Fabric shifted against his cheek as she nodded.  

"Ah," he murmured, and rocked her again, felt her squeeze him a little.  

They stayed that way for a long time.

When he started to feel his neck cricking, he looked over her shoulder towards the door.  It was now fully ajar.  Professor Xavier was sitting outside in his pajamas, looking rather embarrassed.  

_~ Uh oh,_ ~ Kurt heard in his head.  ~ _I'm afraid I've been 'busted,' I think is the term.  Kurt, is she all right? ~_  

The professor was actually blushing.

_~ I sink she'll be fine. ~_

_~ And you? ~_

It was almost 2 am.  Rogue was slumped against him in exhaustion, barely keeping up her end of the hug.  Kurt looked down at the square of light penetrating his room.  The edge of it just caught his sister's bare toes, leaving the rest of her, and all of him, in the quiet dark.  

He was safe, and she was safe, mostly because Mystique was gone.  And that was when it happened.  The simple elegance of Rogue's decision on the cliff struck him, like the blinding flash of looking right at the sun.  She had done it to protect him.  Well now, he would protect her.  With everything he had.

Suddenly it occurred to him that the professor was still there, now looking quizzical, and expecting an answer.

_~ I haff seen za light, ~_ he transmitted, with a smile.**_ ~_**_ If I had been in her shoes, and she in mine, I vould haff done za same sing.  She is my sister. ~_

There was a pause as the professor took all that in.  He nodded.

_~ Well, I'm glad you two talked this out.  However, I would recommend not talking any more tonight, and getting some sleep.  You both have school tomorrow. ~_   

"Aye Cap'n," Kurt said aloud.  He immediately realized his mistake, exchanging a wide-eyed glance with the professor.

"Huh?" Rogue asked, snapping out of it.  "Kurt, who the heck are ya talkin' to?"

"Uh … myself," he stalled.  Professor X made his escape.  

By the time Rogue got the pillowcase off her head and turned toward the door, he was gone.  

Kurt breathed a sigh of relief that she didn't see, and then yawned hugely.

"Vell, I sink some sleep is in order."

"Yeah, yer probably right.  Lord knows whut you'd look like without yer beauty rest," she teased.

Kurt bumped her with his tail, and she smiled.  She got off the bed and hurried to the door.  Kurt followed her.  They stood there for a second in uncomfortable silence.

"Well, g'night," she said, finally.

"Good night."

She bit her lip and walked a few steps down the hallway.  Then she stopped.  Kurt was still behind her, leaning out of his door.  She turned around.

"Ya know, whut you said about pickin'?" she said suddenly.

"Uh huh?"

"I'd a' picked you, too."

It was all the affection she could afford out in the open, where someone might hear.  She left quickly.  He had no chance to think, or even reply.  

Kurt finally shut the door and staggered back to bed.  He burrowed under the covers and stared out the window, following the moon's arc across the sky with his luminous eyes and thinking about his sister.  He didn't fall asleep for a long time.

THE END


	17. The Kiss

Summary: This is a one-shot set right before Sins of the Son. :D

Category: This is indeed the Kurtty I warned you about.  I cannot write romance AT ALL.  So I had to settle for … romantic comedy.  Yells off-stage "Cue the clown music!"  

slide whistles  trombones  triangle noises

Note: If anyone's interested, I made some minor revisions to "Push," the story that comes before this one.  I think it reads better now.  And I'm SO sorry these updates are so far apart.  School's started again!  What's a girl to do?  *sigh*   Anyway, love to everybody for reviewing.  Without further ado, here is … 

THE KISS.

"God dammit!" Rogue groused.  She was on her hands and knees, digging around in mounds of clothing.  The floor of the messy bedroom she shared with Kitty Pryde was completely covered with the contents of Kitty's closet.  Rogue was searching for her favorite Megadeth t-shirt, which had been in her closet.  It had mysteriously disappeared.  "First ah' have zits, then ah figger out ah'm a mutant, and now ah gotta be a god damn arca-ologist jest ta find mah shirt --- KITTY!  Gitcher skinny lil' ass in here an' pick up yer crap!  Ah gotta BE somewhere!"

Kitty just smiled.  She was not about to help her grumpy roommate get ready for her date with Gambit.  (Everybody in the whole house knew who she was going to see, because Gambit had told Pyro, who'd slipped it to Lance, who told Toad, who told Fred and was overheard by Kitty, who told Jubilee, who told everyone else in the known universe.)  

No, Kitty was enjoying herself way too much to stop now.  She was in the room next door (Amara's), sitting on the bed and getting some private time with a certain fuzzy elf.  They were snuggling and talking.  Both of them were shaking a little bit with excitement.

"C'mon Kurt, it'll be fun.  And it's like, totally harmless.  Pleeeeeeease?" she asked, and made The Pouty Face, complete with The Puppy-Dog Eyes and The Blink.

Kurt didn't stand a chance.  After stammering and fumbling for his words, he managed, "Yeah, vhy not?  I mean, who cares, right?  It's not like anybody vill know."

"Exactly," Kitty said sweetly, and tapped her finger against his sensitive nose.

Kurt twitched his nose to get rid of the itch, since his arms were full of Kitty.  He smiled and held her a little tighter.

Besides being close friends, Kitty and Kurt were in similar situations.  Both of them were fed up with being treated like garbage by their significant others.  Lance had really insulted Kitty, to the tune of "You're incredibly needy, now go away."  Kitty knew she could be a little crazy, but she was certainly not "needy."  And Amanda must have been PMS-ing, because she'd dumped, and then forgiven, poor Kurt five times in three days.  

The fuzzy dude and _Kätzchen_ needed a break from the insanity, and as usual, they had turned to each other for some good company and sympathy.  Kurt had always been there for Kitty when she was having problems with Lance (which happened far too often, in Kurt's opinion).  And now Kurt was dating Amanda.  Being the adorably clueless person he was, he needed some serious chick advice, which Kitty was only too happy to provide.  They'd always talked in the rec room, munching on chips and interrupting each other's horror stories with encouragement or advice.  But this time was different.  Things had just been so bad…

Kitty started it.  She started running her fingers through Kurt's hair, and gently brought her lips to his.  She was breathing quietly through her nose, trying to get enough oxygen to sustain the lip-lock for a while.  She caught a big whiff of elf.  Kurt, all rumors to the contrary, did not smell like the smoke he left behind whilst teleporting.  If anything, he smelled like … guy.  Musky, wild, and a bit soapy.  Very clean.  Almost a woodsy scent.  

She ran her hands across his back, feeling his well-muscled shoulders and lats, and kept making big warm circles until she heard him purr, just a little, and felt him lean into her.  His lips were so soft!  It was incredible --- hardly what she expected.  Kitty kept breathing him in and kissing him gently, sucking and popping off with tiny noises, and realized why Amanda had bragged in the girls' bathroom after the first time she made out with Kurt Wagner.

Kitty snorted, "What ever, Mannie!  So you like, made out with Kurt!  What's the big deal?"

Well, now she knew what the big deal was.  And it was awesome.

Kurt, for his part, was enjoying the ride.  Whenever he talked to Kitty, she always had this bubbly, big, powerful presence, whether she was talking or not.  But it was only now, when he was holding her, that he realized how small she was.  Her shoulders and waist were so beautiful and delicate.  He could feel the little bones wandering under his hands every time she moved in his arms.   And her neck was like a swan's.  He felt it gently as he kissed her, and smelled her.  His nose filled up with the scent of lavender bath soap and breath mints.  

Kitty was definitely not Amanda, at least when it came to making out.  She wasn't half as aggressive.  She was polite about her kissing; insistent, but sweet.  He felt her hands on his back and she started to rub him, right there, in that spot just above his lumbar that Amanda had never found.  It released something deep inside him, making his tail swat back and forth and causing an involuntary purr.  He didn't let her go.  He didn't want to stop.  

And about three minutes into their little "conversation," there it was.

Knock knock knock.

His teeth were together, but he could feel Kitty tapping on them with her tongue.

Knock knock knock.

May I come in?

Kurt couldn't help but giggle.  "Hoof bear?"  (Who's there?), he asked, without breaking the kiss.

Kitty giggled too, and said, "Me."

Kurt pulled away, and even let go of Kitty.  This was too good an opportunity to pass up.  "Hang on."

She was a little stunned.  Kurt bamfed away.  But a second later he was back, holding a little white case.  Kitty fanned the air as he sat down on the bed and opened it.  A grin spread across her face as Kurt pulled out two oddly shaped pieces of plastic and put them over his teeth, top and bottom.  He clicked the case closed and threw it over his shoulder in rakish display.  It smashed into something on Amara's dresser and Kitty laughed.  He just shrugged, and took her in his arms again. 

"A'right.  Reshume pray."

Kitty went deep.  So did Kurt.  With his night guards on, the two of them could exchange as much spit as they liked without Kitty cutting herself on Kurt's fangs and adding blood to the mix.  They spent a good five minutes not saying anything, just feeling each other and breathing, letting their hearts race with the excitement of it all, and saying with a kiss what they could never bear to say with words.  They knew they were friends.  They knew this was a one-time thing.  But still…

There was a hard rap on the door.  They both ignored it.  

"Kitty, ah kin hear you breathin', and ah kin smell sulfur!" came Rogue's voice.  "Now quit neckin' with mah brother an' help me find mah damn shirt!"

It was meant to piss Kitty off; to send her running to the door in a huff, if only to yell that Kurt wasn't even IN there.  Rogue loved getting Kitty's goat about the blue boy.  The way she figured it, Kitty so liked Kurt, but was just too chicken to say so.  Dating Lance was just a way to keep her mind off the furball.  Any idiot could see that.  

There was no answer.

"Kitty, ah swear ---" Rogue muttered, swinging the door open.  She stopped dead.  "Oh mah God."

Kitty and Kurt sprang apart with a collective shriek-yell and started stammering excuses.  Kurt didn't make any sense with his night guards in, and Kitty was babbling like an idiot.  It was cacophony.  Rogue just crossed her arms and smirked.  Kurt finally spit out his guards.

"Ve vere blowing off steam!" he said.  "Ve ah not togezzer!  Please GOD don't tell Amanda!  Or Lance!  He'll keel me in mein sleep!"  He actually got down on his knees and laced his fingers in supplication.  Kitty looked ready to join him.

Rogue kept her cool and didn't laugh.  "Good Lord.  Calm yehself down an' stand up, Q-Tip.  Don't do ya no good ta be grovellin' at me.  … Ah ain't gonna tell nobody.  But as penance, Miss Kitty gotta help me find mah shirt."

"Done!" Kitty yelled, running from the room.  "Which one is it?"

Rogue smiled again.  "The one that says Megadeth!"

Kurt stood there uncomfortably under Rogue's scrutiny for six agonizing seconds, until Kitty ran back carrying Rogue's Megadeth t-shirt, neatly folded, with a nervous smile on her face.

"H-H-Here ya go."

"Thank you," Rogue said crisply.  She took it and walked away before they saw her crack up.  

Kitty looked at Kurt.

"She won't.  Will she?"

"I don't sink so.  She's pretty good about keeping her verd.  But of course, if she does let somesing slip, zen ve can just tell Logan she's dating Gambit."  Kurt grinned, showing his fangs.  Kitty smiled, too.

~ X ~

Kurt was sitting in Biology class, and feeling pretty sick.  Amanda had called that morning to call off that evening's date.  She had the flu.  Thanks to all that "kissing and making up" when she was love/hating him a few weeks ago, Kurt suspected he had it as well.  Damn that three-week incubation period!  Then an ugly thought made his eyes go wide.  First Amanda had kissed him, and then he'd kissed Kitty…

"Oh, no.  Please, no."

Class ended and he stumbled out into the hall to grab his books for fifth period.  Kitty's locker was four away from his.  She was reaching inside for her Chemistry book and coughing.  Kurt went over to her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Keety?"

*snrrk*  "Uh?"

She shut the door and looked at him.  Her face was pasty and the tip of her nose was red.

"Oh, hey, Kurt.  Man, I am like, so tired.  I feel like hell.  I jus'… I jus' wanna go home."  The poor thing looked like she was about to cry.

He sighed and threw an arm around her.  "Me too."

So they did.  They ditched the rest of their classes and left early.  Back at the mansion, Beast put them to bed immediately, and then insisted on checking over the new recruits, (and anyone else who was home), to see if something was going around.  But for some strange reason, Kitty and Kurt were the only ones who had the flu.

"Odd," he muttered, scratching his shaggy head.

He didn't have time to ponder this, though.  Charles was calling him --- something about watching the younger kids, because he was going off to Scotland.  Beast shrugged and started for the office.

THE END

There is more to come, y'all.  I haven't figured out what's left to put up.  It might be time to start on the grand finale … god only knows when THAT will start to take shape.  *makes a face*   Agh!  School too much!  Brain aching!  *blows raspberry in frustration*   Well, in any case, it's 11 pm, Sunday night.  I hear that sleep is good when you're tired.  And I am FRIED.  I think I'll try it.  

Peace and love and until we meet again (I hope it's soon),

Kiki


	18. X Pletive Deleted

Hi, everybody!  I know this sucker has been sitting idle for six weeks, but Fateema said, "Hey yo!  Get up off yo' ass and DO something with this!" --- kind of.  :D  And so I must obey.  This will probably be the final story before the Grand Finale of Project: Wagner.  Thanks once again to everybody who is reviewing this thing.

Oh, and I have some exciting news!  I drew a picture for this collection in pen and ink, sort of like a cover for a book, and gave it to this lovely website dedicated to Kurt on Evo, called Wagnerszenen.  The guy who runs it will put it up when he updates in December.  I will let you all know the instant it's up, and give you the link to Wagnerszenen if you want to see the pic.  I'll post where to go both at the beginning of this collection (for newbies) and at the end (for um, old-bies.)  :D  And maybe somewhere in the middle, too. 

Summary: Forge's latest invention turns the Institute upside-down!

Rating: PG-13, edging on R, for um, "mature themes."  And Rogue says the four-letter word for "poo poo."

Category: This is full of SLASH, but only because this story is a **PARODY** of Slash Fanfiction, which means this is intended as **HUMOR**.  And in the middle of it all, there's some **KURTTY**.  Talk about a crazy story!  (Sorry.  I know the Bold and Caps and Underline thing is overkill, but I didn't label this all that well when I posted yesterday, and I think I freaked out a couple of my best reviewers.  They were like, "Slash?  Eww!"  So I'm making sure there's no mistake.)

Note: This is perhaps the most risqué thing in this collection.  And it's also a personal challenge, because I don't write slash.  In general, I find it … what's the most academic term I can use?  Oh, yeah.  Niz-ASS-tay.  That said, Slash has its share of renegade, bad-ass writers, and I have found one in the X-Men Evo domain.  

And this is why I command you to check out "It's a Good [Expletive Deleted] Morning," by Morwen O'Conner.  In fact, check out ANYTHING by Morwen O'Conner.  She's amazing.  Also see her website, full of great pictures, funny fanfics, and other cool stuff devoted to everyone's favorite four-eyed do-gooder, Scott Summers!  It's called "Fatal Optic," and you can link to it easily through "Beyond Evolution."  I've never met Morwen, but this chick rules.  You should check her out.

Not like THAT.  Be nice.

She'll probably never even see this.  But if she does, she should know that her title inspired this one.  So Morwen, here's to you and all the slashy, slutty (and well-written!) goodness you create.  With any luck, you'll see that this is in good fun, and you will not flame me.  Cheers!

---X---X--- X-Pletive Deleted ---X---X---

Kitty was leaning against the wall of the Danger Room, looking like, totally bored, and watching Forge, the Institute's resident mechanical genius, as he darted about with a rag, polishing his latest machine.  Kitty was not really interested in Forge's latest machine, and she couldn't really remember why she was here in the first place, but that thought was quickly blown out of her head as the door opened.

Scott walked in angrily, in full uniform.  He was pushing a very grumpy Lance Alvers (whose hands were cuffed behind him), while carrying Pietro Maximoff under one arm.  (The boy was bound ankle to neck in ropes and fighting desperately to get free.)  Evan walked in too, jerking Todd Tolensky along on a leash, and leading Fred Dukes by the hand, like a three-year-old.  

Kitty was surprised, to say the least.  So were the other girls, who were walking in.  Jean was running her fingers through her long red hair and staring at the scene in amazement.  Rogue flipped a white bang out of her face and glared at the whole lot.

"Whut the hell's goin' on?" she asked.

"We caught all of these idiots trying to get in," Scott said, and nudged Lance just enough so that he lost his balance and landed hard on the floor, with an "oof!"  "I figured we should bring them in here so the professor can wipe their minds, and then we'll send them on their way."  He was panting slightly from the exertion of carrying Pietro.

"Good idea," Jean said, all the while eyeing Scott's expanding and collapsing rib cage under his uniform.  

Her tone of voice gave her eyes away, and Rogue made a gagging noise.  Kitty giggled.  Jean glared at them both.  

"Uh, I don't think the professor will be here anytime soon," Forge said, standing in front of a massive machine that looked like a giant computer with a ray gun on top.  

"Whoa!  What the heck iz ZAT, yo?" Toad asked, looking at the device.

"This, my fine, slimy friend, is a Gaser."

The room was completely quiet.

"A what?"  Kitty asked.  "Did you say 'a geyser'?  Like Old Faithful?  'Cuz that doesn't look like a geyser to me!"

"No!" Forge shouted.  "It's a GAY-ser!"

Again, dumbfounded silence.

"It's a laser that makes people gay!" Forge said.  "Isn't that cool?"

A disgusted pause.

"NO, you doofus, that is like, totally NOT cool!" Kitty chirped.  "In fact, that's like, the dumbest thing I've ever heard of!"

Apparently the guys (free and bound) were in agreement with Kitty.  They all started laughing at Forge, who turned a lovely shade of terra cotta and marched over to his machine.

"Laugh at me, will you?  Well, prepare to meet your social ends, people!"

**BZAAAAP!**

A jet of green light shot out of the ray gun attachment and fried all the guys, who happened to be standing right in front of the damn thing.  Apparently they'd missed the "Don't stand in front of a giant gun" lecture in superhero class.  The shock left the bunch of spandex-clad young men on their hands and knees, rubbing their heads and moaning.  

Scott was the first to stand up.  Jean tried to go to him, but Rogue held her back and shook her head "no" --- because something bizarre had happened.

Scott stared at Lance, who was struggling to get up --- a difficult task with his hands behind his back.  

"Hey, easy there!" Scott said, kneeling down next to the other boy.  "Let me help you."  He tenderly undid the latch on Lance's handcuffs and helped him stand up.  

"Thanks," Lance said.

They both looked at each other for a long beat, as only opposites can look at each other.  It was the good boy versus the renegade.  The leaders of their clans.  Light and Dark.  Yin and Yang.  The emotions running through them at the moment were overwhelming.  Scott blushed and gave a boyish grin, which made Lance blush, and run his fingers through his hair.  Scott ran his fingers through his own.  Then Lance ran his fingers through Scott's hair, and Scott ran his fingers through Lance's hair, and the two of them started making out like … well, exactly what they were --- a couple of horny teenagers.

Jean fainted.

Evan and Pietro weren't faring any better.  Evan undid Pietro bonds, and they had a small, if uncomfortable, silence.  Evan broke it.

"You know, I always thought you were hot," he said.  "Guess that's why I always hated you and pushed you away."

"Aw, that's okay, baby," Pietro replied, running a finger down Evan's chest.  "You can apologize to me lllllater."

"Yeah, guess I can," Evan teased, pulling Pietro into an embrace.  "But right now, I want something better.  Something real."

"Well, BOO-yah!  Come an' get me, Chocolate-Dip!"

"Mm.  How you want it, Cream?"

"Du-uh!  Fast!" Pietro said, cuddling up to Evan and kissing his neck.  "And fun!"

"That works.  Course, we might end up calling you Fudge."

"Oh?  Why?"

"Cuz I might wanna mix a little chocolate in your cream later, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, Evan, you sassy bitch, you!" Pietro declared lustfully.

And THEY started making out.

"Oh, mah god!" Rogue said, watching the two of them.  "Shit!  Ah knew he wuz quick, but ah nevah knew he could do all that crap with his tongue!"

Kitty elbowed her.  She had moved out of "shocked" and was approaching "mortified."

Toad, sadly, was having no luck with Freddy.

"Please, Blob?  Just one little kiss?"

"Hell, no!" Fred said.  "Just cuz we're gay don't mean I gotta kiss ya!"

"Hey, I'm da only one left!  C'mon, less go!  Everybody else is rippin' each other's clothes off!"  Toad was referring to Scott and Lance, who had peeled back each others uniforms and were now exploring each others torsos with their tongues.  "The least you could do is make out with me!"

"Uh uh!  No way!" Fred said, and turned around.

"Aaaah, no!  No no no!  Don't you dare, Freddy!  Don't you DARE walk away from me!"

Fred did.  Toad began to cry.

"Ya lousy son-of-a-BITCH!" he yelled petulantly.  "Ah HATE you!"

Forge was laughing maniacally.  

"Why, Forge, why?!  Why did you do this?"  Kitty was getting hysterical.

"Because I can, sweetie, that's why!  Ha ha ha!"

"Oh, that's it!  I'm calling the professor!  He'll straighten this out!" Kitty shouted at him.

Forge just cackled.  "Good luck, babycakes!  I tested this laser on him and Mr. McCoy!  Beast lifted him out of his chair, and put him on the desk, and WHAMMO!  They've been makin' the slamma-jamma upstairs, for like, an HOUR!  He is OCCUPIED!"

And sure enough, from up above, Kitty could hear groans of pleasure and the thumping of office furniture.

"Oh my God!  Ewww!"

And into this fray of madness and screaming and making out … walked Kurt Wagner.  He looked around, stunned, at his friends (and enemies), and then at Forge.

"Vhat za hell is goink on?!" he yelled over the noise.

"HA HA HA!  The end of your blue, furry, heterosexual EXISTENCE, THAT'S what's going on!  Welcome to Gayville, Kurt!"

"_Vas_?!"

"Kurt, DUCK!" Kitty yelled.

Kurt was too confused to duck.  The laser fired, catching him square in the chest.  It blasted him off his feet, and hurled him backwards through the air.  He landed in a moaning heap on the floor.  Kitty ran over to him and gathered him into her lap.  

"Oh, my God!  Kurt!  Are you okay?" she asked, getting his bangs out of his face.

"Keety, I haff maybe six seconds before I become a screaming kveen."  Kurt was panting in her arms like he was dying.  He looked deeply into her eyes and said, "I love you.  I vill ALVAYS love you.  Okay?"

"Oh, Kurt!" Kitty said, sniffling.  "I l-love you, too!"

Kurt was just reaching up to hug her, when he started to twitch.  He passed out in her arms, but came to again quickly, rubbing his head.  

"Kurt?" Kitty asked, hesitantly.

They both stood up.  Kurt was a bit dizzy.  Kitty steadied him for a second.  He looked like he'd forgotten how he got there, but then he began to look her up and down.  "Wow!  How pretty!" he exclaimed.  

She preened.  "Thank you!"  She turned smugly to Forge and said, "Your little laser totally didn't work, LSD Boy!  Kurt's as straight as an arrow, so HA!"

"Oh.  _Mein Gott_!" Kurt gasped.  He appeared to be staring at her feet.  Kitty whirled around and looked at him in confusion.  

"What?" she asked.

"Vere did you get zose shoes?  I love zem!" he squealed, making some sort of idiotic flapping gesture with his hands.

All the color drained out of Kitty's face.  Toad sauntered up to Kurt and boldly put his grimy, webbed hand in the back pocket of Kurt's cargo pants.  Kurt, instead of looking disgusted and judo-flipping Toad on his ass, looked back with definitely flirty eyes, then looked back at Kitty.

"Oops, gotta go!" he said, and walked off arm in arm with Todd Tolensky.  "Time for funzies!"

"Time for WHAT?!" Kitty screeched.

Cher's hit tune, "Walking in Memphis," began to play, and Kitty suddenly realized that it was being sung by all the newly gay guys.  Scott had stopped licking Lance long enough to kick it off.

"_Put on my blue suede shoes, and I boarded the plane_," he sang, with the other guys doing back up noises with their voices.

"_Touched down in the land of the Delta Blues, in the middle of the pourin' rain_!" Lance sang, his arm firmly around Scott.

"_WC Handy_?" Pietro threw in.  "_Won'tcha look down over me_?" Evan chimed in, harmonizing with him.

"_'Cuz I got a first class ticket!  And I'm as blue as a boy can be_!" Kurt bellowed.

And they all sang …

"_Then I'm walkin' in __Memphis__!  Walkin' with my feet ten feet off of Beale!  Walkin' in __Memphis__!  But do I really feel the way I feel?_…"

The other dudes formed a chorus line and sang the chorus again.

And Kitty watched in horror as Kurt forgot about singing entirely, and started making out with Toad.

She dropped to her knees and howled at the ceiling, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO---"

*XXX*

"---OOOOOOOOOO!" she screamed, and sat bolt upright in bed, breathing hard.

Rogue was at her side in a minute.  

"Lord, girl, whassamatter with you?  Ya' tryin' ta wake the whole damn house?"

***BAMF***

"Keety?" Kurt said.  He'd landed on her bed.  "Ah you all right?"

There were people banging on the door and yelling.  Kitty didn't even acknowledge the racket.  She just kept panting.  She felt a fuzzy hand on her should and looked at Kurt, who looked positively startled.  

"Ah ve going to haff to call in an exorcist?  Vhat happened?"

By this time, the door had opened, and Scott, Jean, and Evan were all peeking into the room.

"I --- I had a bad dream.  That was all.  I'm so sorry I scared everybody."

Kurt sighed.  "Vas it ze one viss all of us turning gay again?"

Kitty's face crumpled up in misery.  She nodded.  

"Ach, come here, _meine fraulein_," he said, and held out his arms.  Kitty fell into them and sniffed.  Rogue rolled her green eyes.  

"Y'all have got ta be tha biggest idjuts ah've ever seen.  Kitty, Kurt ain't gay.  An' Kurt, Kitty needs ta sleep, an' so do ah.  Now git!  An' all you people kin shove off, too.  She's okay!"

Kurt released Kitty, snapped a salute and teleported away.  The others mumbled apologies and good-nights, and went back to their rooms.  

Rogue flopped over, muttering, and went back to sleep.  

And Kitty, newly encouraged, burrowed under the covers and dreamed of meadows, and sunny skies, and blue fur.

THE END!

--------

Well?  Like it?  Hate it?  Amused?  Disgusted?  Speak your mind.

By the way, this is not only inspired by the behavior of all my gay friends at school, it's got a smattering of Will & Grace in there.  And as for the Cher stuff, I couldn't resist.  A friend of mine attended a Cher concert where she opened by saying, "Good evening ladies, and gentlemen … and more FLAMBOYANT gentlemen…" which got her a huge man-squeal from the first three rows.  I leave the brain-wrenching deduction to you.

Peace and love,

Kiki 


	19. Flambé Bleu

Pure, utter, and complete fluff.  Blame it on the "WHEEEE!  FINALS ARE OVER!  PARTY HARDY!" happies.  Enjoy!

=== FLAMBÉ BLEU ===

The sun shone brightly in the June sky.  It was a clear, warm day, and school had just ended.  The euphoria at this blessed event had resulted in an enormous party out behind the Institute, with students splashing in the pool and eating, often simultaneously.  Logan and Hank were wolfing down hamburgers and talking on a bench next to a large picnic table, which was weighed down with fruit and big bowls of different salads.  Ororo was mixing up some whipped cream and fruit concoction.  Kitty, her hair full of ketchup, was chasing Bobby and yelling at him.  Evan and Kurt were manning the barbecue. 

"So.  Two more days here and then you're taking off for Germany?" Evan asked, dousing the grill with fresh lighter fluid.  He loved barbecuing, and liked to think that he knew what he was doing.  (He didn't.)

"Ja.  For two months!  Man, I'm glad to be going home, but I'll really miss ziss place."

"Yeah, we'll have to think of another way to drive ourselves nuts when you're not here," Evan said, with a laugh.

"Aaargh!" Kitty screeched as she ran by, now blinded by mustard.  She was out for Iceman's blood.

"Vell, zere's alvays Bobby," Kurt remarked.

Evan smiled.  He'd been dousing the grill with lighter fluid this whole time, and neither boy had been paying attention.  "Tru dat," he said, and lit a match.  "Okay dude, stand back!"

They both backed away, but not nearly far enough, and Evan tossed the match onto the grill.  

**Ka-BLAMMO!**

The fireball that erupted from the barbecue was something to behold.  Everybody stopped what they were doing to watch it.  The smoke rolling off the grill looked like a mushroom cloud and when it finally cleared, Evan and Kurt were just standing there, blinking, covered in ash.

"Whooooaa," they said together.

Kurt snapped out of it first.  "Zat vas so kül!" he yelled.  

Just as they slapped five, Logan and Hank came walking over with resigned, annoyed looks on their faces.  But everyone would later agree that the fireball had been a pretty awesome show.  Evan was unharmed, just covered in soot.  Kurt, on the other hand, had a pressing problem that he didn't even recognize for a few seconds.  He sniffed the air.

"I smell smoke," he commented.

And then Evan looked at him.  His eyes bugged out.

"Kurt!  Your HAIR is on fire!"

"Oh, stop it!"

"NO, man, it really IS!"

And indeed, he was right.  A small flame had leapt off the fireball and was now burning cheerfully on the left side of Kurt's head, just behind one of his bangs.  And it was getting bigger.  A few more crickly-crackly noises and Kurt felt something.  Big time.  

"AAAAAH!"

He bolted into the house with Evan in hot pursuit, frantically stuck his head in the kitchen sink and slapped the water on, urging it to come forth in his native tongue.  He was panicking as only a person whose head has suddenly become a tinder box can panic… because nothing was happening.

"Crap!  Zere's no vater!  Help!" he yelled, frantically flipping the water on and off.  He didn't even notice that his right bang was in the garbage disposal hole.

"Oh damn!  It's set to the hand-sprayer!  Hang on!" Evan yelled.  He grabbed the hand-sprayer, which was coiled in the other sink well, aimed it at Kurt, and blasted him.  Unfortunately, he got a little too excited and his elbow whacked into the wall switch for the garbage disposal.  It whirred to life and quickly got its blades tangled up in Kurt's hair. 

"Aaaah!  Son of a BITCH!  Ow!  EVAAAAN!"

"Sorry!"

Fortunately, Logan picked that moment to run in.  He raced to sink, knocked Evan on his ass, and reacted to the situation faster than was humanly possible --- yelling "Calm down, kid!  Quit squirming!" while turning off the disposal with one hand and spraying Kurt with the other.  After a few seconds of Logan gritting his teeth and blasting the flames out, and smoke everywhere, and Kurt gagging and spluttering, the fire was extinguished.  Logan backed off and sighed in relief.  

It seemed that the situation was under control, at least for now.  Kurt was no longer on fire.  This was good.  But he was painfully stuck in the sink with his neck at a funny angle, and his right cheek was smashed up against the garbage disposal hole.  His tail was going crazy and he could hear this odd mewling noise, like a trapped kitten.  It took him a second to realize that he was the source of the sound.

"Whoa!  Dude, are you okay?" Evan asked, getting up from the floor.

"Shut up, Porcupine!" Logan replied, surveying the situation.  He muttered some words not for tender ears and gave a neural command.

SNIKT

There was a quick silver flash in the sink, and suddenly Kurt was free.  Logan had cut him out of the disposal.  Kurt stood up with a wince and moan, and cricked his neck to line everything up again.  His furry face was slightly singed, but he seemed to be all right --- with the exception of his hair.  

Logan let out a low whistle and muttered, "Holy crap."  He sheathed his claws.  Fast.

Kurt was still kind of dazed.  "Vhat?"

Ororo ran in, toweling off her hands.  "I heard screaming.  What happ…"  The words died on her lips at the sight of Kurt.  "Oh, heavens!  Kurt, are you all right?"

"I sink I'm okay."

And then he felt his head.  His eyes went wide.  He whirled around and stared at his reflection in the shiny silver refrigerator.  The left half of his head looked like a forest after a wildfire, and his right bang was snipped down to a nubbin.  He stared down into the sink and saw a big blue tuft sticking out of the garbage disposal hole.

"_Mein Gott_.  You didn't!"

"Sorry, kid.  Had 'ta."

Kurt sighed, murmured a few colorful German words under his breath, and looked desperately at Ororo.  Fortunately her motherly instincts kicked in and she shooed him out of the kitchen before anyone else saw him.  They escaped just in time, too.  Kitty, who was now completely covered in condiments (she had pickle relish on her shirt), raced into the kitchen with a posse of friends as soon as the two of them had gone.  

+X+

Kurt looked around at Ororo's attic bedroom.  He was not a very happy elf, and he had a feeling that this haircut wasn't going to help matters, but he was nonetheless obediently perched on a stool.  

"Okay, here we go!" Ororo said cheerfully, walking into the room with an armload of stuff.  

Ororo had been named the Institute's official hairdresser after the first time she'd given Beast a trim, and she'd been trimming him every week since, so she'd gotten pretty good with the scissors.  Whistling a little tune to herself, she draped Kurt with a plastic tablecloth and fastened it at the back with a clothespin.  A half spin and Kurt was facing her full-length mirror.  She set down her tools, combed what remained of his hair, and spent a long time just staring at his reflection, trying to figure out what to do.  

The sad fact was, half of his head looked reasonably like Kurt Wagner, and the other half was a thin, clingy, foul-smelling mess of burnt hair.  She sighed. 

"Well, Kurt, what are we going to do?"

"I don't know vhat you're going to do, but I certainly know vhat I'm going to do."

"What are you going to do?"

"Vell, first I'm going to find Evan."

"And?"

"And zen I'm going to kill Evan."

"Kurt…"

"And zen after I kill Evan…"

"KURT!"

"Sorry."

Ororo managed to regain her composure before she started a hurricane.  "Kurt, I honestly don't know what to tell you.  A comb-over," which she demonstrated by flopping some of his hair over to the nearly bald side, "would look wretched."

"Blech!" Kurt agreed.

"Well then, my dear, I'm afraid there's very little I can do."

"You're sure?"

"Darling, I'm a goddess, not a miracle worker."

Kurt couldn't help but smile.  "Can you do somesing, at least?"

"Well, yes, but you won't like it."

"Vill it look better zan ziss?"

"Eventually."

He bowed his head so he was looking at the floor and said, "Do it."

"Okay," she said warily.  "But don't say I didn't warn you." 

An ominous buzzing noise started, but Kurt kept his head down.  He didn't look up until it was over.

+X+

What had happened in the kitchen was a secret, so naturally, everyone in the mansion knew about it.  Kitty (now cleaned up), Bobby (with a stinging red handprint decorating his cheek), Jean, Scott, Evan, Rogue, and some of the new recruits were sitting around the table, waiting for Kurt to come down from Ororo's room.  Evan had been banned from using the barbecue ever again, so Logan and Hank were manning it outside.  

There was a soft BAMF in the hall and finally Kurt appeared in the doorway, wearing a New York Mets baseball cap with his elfish ears tucked up underneath the brim.  Kitty smiled at him.

"Hey, Kurt.  We all heard about The Incident.  Did Ororo manage to save any of your hair?"

Kurt removed the cap to reveal that sadly, she had not.  His hair was cut so short that his head looked like a fuzzy blue peach, and it made his ears stick out.  Jean gasped.  Scott's eyebrows went up.

"Whoa.  Burned!" Bobby declared, in his usual annoying fashion.  Evan walloped him on the arm.  "Ow!"

"Oh, Kurt, that sucks!" Kitty said.  "Well you know what, it's just hair, right?  It like, grows!  You'll be okay!"

"Ja, you have a point," he agreed glumly.  "But I'm going to go home looking like an idiot!" 

"Yeah, but you'll be everybody's favorite idiot.  C'mon," Kitty said, grabbing his elbow.  "I bet you're hungry.  You should go outside and have a hotdog, or fourteen."  

He smiled as she dragged him out into the sunlight.  

+X+

Kurt got on the plane two days later, still wearing that baseball cap, and took off for two months with his family in Germany.  The other mutants at the School for Gifted Youngsters spent two months of their summer vacation driving each other crazy to compensate for him not being around, and when the professor told Kitty one Sunday that Kurt's plane was landing that afternoon, she went a little nuts and ran around yelling at everyone who would listen that Kurt was coming back.  

A cab pulled into the circular driveway at four o'clock and Kurt, dressed up with his hologram, hopped out with his bags.  His hologram was wearing a red baseball cap that said "Bonn Rock Haus," and he looked a little weary, but no worse for wear.  After paying the cabby his fare, he hefted up his bags and walked up the steps, only to be greeted by Scott and Jean, who took his suitcase and duffel and walked him inside.  

Kitty, Rogue, Evan, and the professor were there in the foyer to greet him.  There was an explosion of "Hey!"  "There he is!"  "Thank God you're back!  We were so bored," etc. when Kurt walked in the door.  Hugs were exchanged all around.  

The door shut on them all and Kurt turned off his image inducer, which revealed his blue fuzziness, old clothes, and the fact that he was indeed wearing the red "Bonn Rock Haus" cap.  Kitty walked around behind him and giggled.

"Kurt, take that stupid hat off!"

So he did.  

Everyone stared.  His hair had grown out from almost nothing and into a short, masculine cut with… character.  Little waves and loose curls cascaded all over his head.

"It's nice," Scott said.

"It's short," Rogue commented.

"It's CURLY!" Kitty squealed.  She pounced on Kurt like she wanted a piggy-back ride, and started playing with his hair.  "Your hair is CURLY!  I am so jealous!"

"And apparently it's a chick magnet!" Kurt said, his laugh mingling with the giggling of all the gathered students. 

He took off running with Kitty on his back.  She screeched in delight.

THE END.

------

X-planation: As non-existent as my French is, I thought "Flambé Bleu" would make a better title than "Help!  My head is on fire!"  Also, for those of you who enjoy Nightcrawler in the comics, Kurt's final haircut is a small ode to the man he will become.     

I am writing the finale at the moment, and the madness should begin soon.  Thanks always for reading!  You all are da BOMB!!!  And for those of you who were like, "HUH?" or "Ew!" at the previous piece, I've learned my lesson.  Never again will you see any parody or slash in this collection.  I think I'm okay in saying that because I'm almost at the end, anyway.  Hee hee!

By the way, if you're just getting into this, I have another Kurt story out that was just too big to fit into this bunch.  (Meaning I couldn't tell it in five pages.)  It's a little number called "Kül," and it's semi-Kurtty, so if you're diggin' on this and still can't get enough Kurt, there 'ya go.  There's more for you.  And if you've become a Kurt addict, feel free to check out the phenomenal Kurt works of ParkerFloyd.  You won't be disappointed.  

~ Kiki  


	20. I Vant To Direct, Part One

Well everybody, here it is.  The moment of truth.  The grand finale.  The big shebang.  But then again, this is MY writing we're talking about, so don't get your hopes up.  LOL

This piece is not going to be a one-shot, because the story is just too big.  It should be a fun ride, however, and I hope you all enjoy it.  It is dedicated to anyone who loves film, anyone who loves Kurt, and anyone who has ever been a part of the behind-the-scenes lunacy in any production of any kind --- music, dance, theater, etc.   Murphy's Law, people!  Right here!  

The title of the tale is taken verbatim from Robin Williams's brilliant shtick with a sock turned hand-puppet at the Golden Globe Awards.  (This was a few years ago.)  I can't remember exactly what happened, but the comedian used the puppet to make an acceptance speech.  He ended by asking the sock, "What's next for you?"  And he made the sock respond, with a funny voice and a vaguely German accent, "I vant to direct!"

Let the madness begin!!!  ;D

=== **I VANT TO DIRECT **===

Part 1:  _The Good, The Bad, and The Extremely Bad_

"Well everyone, we have three weeks until the end of the semester and I must say, it's been an unexpected pleasure having you all in my English class," Ms. Enkler said with a smile.  

She was leaning against her desk in room 102 at Bayville High, looking out over a small sea of content seventeen-year-old faces.  All the students in her Film as Literature class seemed to really be enjoying themselves and speaking frankly, this was the best class she'd had in her ten years of teaching.  Of course, it would have been suicide to say that to the students --- they would have walked all over her.  But she was safe in complimenting them, and in an unprecedented move, she was giving them a little present.

"So I have a surprise for you all.  Usually, I have everybody write a twenty-page paper as their final assignment.  You basically select a film and spout off about certain aspects of it: style, theme, cinematic techniques, plot, character, etcetera, etcetera.  You have to use a few sources, and you must have your own ideas.  It's a bit more complicated than what most of you are used to.  Make no mistake, it's a challenge, and I expect quality work."

There was a grumbly-mumbly moan from the class.

"But," she said, "Since you all have done so well this semester, I'm giving you another option.  If you like, instead of writing a research paper, you can make your own film."

The class got very excited at this and started yammering.

"But I want to warn you!" she said.  Their babble dribbled off into silence.  "Making a film is not as easy as it looks.  We've spent most of the semester studying films but also how films are made, and I'm sure you all realize that there is a lot of work involved.  Most likely, it will be even more time-consuming and frustrating than putting together a research paper."

The class, however, had apparently ignored her last sentence.  They were already buzzing about what they were going to do.  But nobody looked half as wide-eyed or excited as Kurt Wagner, who was sitting in his usual spot by the third-row window and grinning at her like an idiot.  She smiled warmly at him.  Kurt, for all his quirks (the no touching thing was a little weird) was a real sweetheart, and one of her best kids.  And considering his horrendous spelling, he would undoubtedly choose to make a film.  

"Calm down, people!" she said.  "I want to set out the guidelines, so that you can decide what you want to do.  I need to know by the end of the period."

She began to scribble on the board.

~ X ~

The ride home from school was practically silent.  Scott was driving and Kurt was crammed in the back seat with Kitty and Evan.  Rogue had shotgun.  

"Why's it so quiet?" Rogue asked, startling everybody.  

Kurt was scribbling on a pad of paper and not even paying attention.  When he looked up, everybody was staring at him --- even Scott, since they were stopped at a light.  

"Vhat?"

"Whutcha doin' that's more important than makin' noise, boy?" Rogue asked, laughing.

Everybody else laughed too, and Kurt looked a little embarrassed and hugged his pad to his chest.  

"Aw!  Ain't that cute!  Ya writin' a poem?" Rogue teased.

"Pssht.  _Nein_!" Kurt said, and stuck his tongue out at her.

"Well then what are you doing?" Kitty asked, and grabbed Kurt's pad before he could stop her.  "_The Legend of Sandy Gulch_," she read aloud.

"Hey, stop zat!" Kurt yelled, and tried to take it from her.

Giggling like crazy, Kitty passed it to Evan.

"_A Film by Kurt Wagner_!" he finished, and started cackling.  "Kurt, you're making a FILM?  YOU?"

"I fail to see vhy zat is so funny!" Kurt said.  He puffed himself up and crossed his arms, much to the amusement of everyone else in the car.  "Yes, I am making a film."

"Any particular reason?" Scott asked from the front, pulling into the circular drive at the Institute.

"School project.  It's for mein Film as Literature class."

"Oh."  Scott put the car in park.

"Ja, 'Oh.'  Now if you vill excuse me…"

Kurt unbuckled himself.  Then he effortlessly vaulted up into a one-handed handstand on Kitty's thigh, grabbed the pad from Evan with his free hand, flipped out of the car, and landed on his feet.

"I haff to turn in a script in tree days.  I vill see you all later."

He ran up the steps and into the house.  The remaining mutants shrugged at each other.

~ X ~

"Kurt, I love this script!  It's so cute!  And it should run about eight minutes, which is perfect.  There's just one thing, though.  It looks like you have a gigantic cast.  Where are you going to get all of your actors?"

Ms. Enkler looked at Kurt over the rims of her glasses and raised her eyebrows in a rather Mr. McCoy-ish fashion, and Kurt had to clamp his mouth shut to keep from laughing.  But she was expecting an answer.

He smiled.  "I have lots of friends who all vant to participate.  It vill be fine!" 

His teacher didn't look entirely convinced, but she was game.  "Well, okay.  Now don't you be afraid to ask me any questions.  After all, I am a freelance cinematographer.  I know a thing or two about making films.  Here's the key to the storage cabinet.  Go get a digital camera, sign your name on the sheet so I know the number you took, and you're free to go.  Get crackin'!"  She handed Kurt the key.

"All right!" he cheered, and trotted over to the big cabinet along the wall.  Gleefully, he took out a shiny little video camera, one of the fifteen that had recently been donated to the school.  Just holding it was exciting.  He signed it out, handed the key back to Ms. Enkler, and sat down at his desk to start mapping out who would play who in his film.  

It was three days after the assignment had been given, and Phase One of his project, the script, was done.  He had stayed up pretty late the past two nights getting everything ready, and after Kitty had solemnly sworn not to laugh her ass off, he gave it to her to read over.  She spent a few hours correcting all the spelling and grammatical errors she could find, declared it a fine piece of work, and apparently Ms. Enkler agreed.  

But now he was into Phase Two, the "actor selection process," which was set to begin the minute the script was approved and he had his camera.  He obviously wasn't aiming for movie stars.  In fact, he'd written the script with most of the people from the Institute in mind.  But there was a slight stumbling block that he hadn't told Ms. Enkler about.  He did indeed have a big pool of friends, but they were lousy actors, for the most part.  He'd never heard anybody do anything dramatic at home aside from the occasional rant about no food in the fridge, or the daily drama that came from any of them being their idiotic teenage selves.  And to make matters worse, he wasn't sure they'd be willing to participate.  

Adding to this was the problem of sets and costumes, and extras, and lighting, and the fact that all these people would have to be FED.  And what if the weather went bad?  It didn't end.

"Oh, man.  Vhat vas I tinking?" Kurt muttered, putting his face in his hands.  

The bell rang at the end of the period and he slumped out the door with the rest of the students, protectively cradling his camera and looking like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.  If he'd looked back, he would have realized that twelve of his classmates who were also about to make films looked the same way --- sagging, pressured, all the color drained out of their faces.

"_Gott__ in himmel_!" Kurt said.  "Casting is going to be hell!"

~ X ~

"Everybody, please settle down!" he said, clapping his hands.  The windows were dark, but the common room was brightly lit and full of students and teachers, who had all chosen to talk at the same time.  It was about six o'clock at the Institute, and Kurt had gathered everyone to see if he could cast the film quickly.  Nobody was paying any attention to him.  

"Hey, like shut up!" Kitty yelled, trying to help.  More yakkety yakkety yakkety.  

"_Sehr__ SCHNELL_!" Kurt hollered at the top of his lungs.

The room went silent in an instant.

"What did you call us?!" Logan roared from the back.

Kurt rolled his eyes.  "I didn't call you anysing, Mr. Logan!  I just said 'And do it fast!' really loud, in German."

"Oh."

The furry blue director cleared his throat.  "Tanks for your attention, everybody.  As you all know, I'm doing a film for mein Film as Lit class.  I haff a script, but now I haff to direct it, and I need to cast it.  Is anybody interested in playing a role?"

"What kind of a film is it?" Hank McCoy asked from where he stood next to Logan.

"It's a short vestern."

"So it's a film about a teeny tiny tailor?" Logan cracked.  Most everyone laughed and Kurt's cheeks went purple.  Ororo elbowed Logan.  

"What roles are there?" Scott asked, ignoring the teachers.

Kurt tried to ignore them, too.  "Vell, everybody can be involved, but, let's see.  Zere is za brave sheriff who saves za town, za lady who runs za saloon (who is ze love interest of za brave sheriff), za head bandit, and za narrator," Kurt said, ticking off on his fingers.  "So zere ah four speaking parts up for grabs, and I need everybody I can get to be townspeople.  Ant if you vant to help but you don't vant to be on camera, zat's fine, because I need people to run lights and za microphone and stuff like zat.  So anybody who is interested in helping out in any vay, come meet me in mein room.  Okay?  _Danke_!  Zat's it!"

He packed up his school bag and left behind a buzzing, excited crowd.  

"Hm.  Well, I love to act, but I didn't hear about any part for a big blue gorilla," Hank said sadly.  

"Oh, there there, Hank," Ororo said, patting his arm.  "I'm sure we can both help out behind the scenes.  For instance, I think I'll be in charge of the atmosphere," she said, and smiled.

"Hardy har har.  Well, I suppose they could use someone to do the catering, too.  I say we tag-team the food.  What do you think?"

"I think I like the way you think!" she replied with a laugh.  "Let's go talk to Kurt."

They walked away, leaving Logan alone in the corner, crossing his arms and staring out the window.  Truth be told, he was feeling kind of bad about insulting Kurt's movie.  He hadn't even seen the script.  

"I bet I'd make a great sheriff!" Bobby Drake said, walking by with Jubilee.  They were looking a little too cozy for Logan's taste, but he didn't say anything. 

"Yeah, and I could be the saloon lady!  All busty and lusty an' everything!" she said, giggling.

Logan rolled his eyes.  Jubilee was a whopping thirteen years old.  If she was "busty," he was Shaquille O'Neal.  

"I don't know, Jean," Scott said, wandering by in mid-conversation.  "I'm really a lousy actor.  You should have seen the scene from Richard III that I had to do with Rogue last year in Drama Club.  It was terrible!"

"Oh, it was not!" Jean said, arm in arm with him.  "You were great.  And I bet you could be great in this!"

"No, I was bad.  Really.  Are you going to try out for the movie?"

"Nah, I think I want to be Kurt's lighting gal.  I had some experience with that on a school play a few years ago, and it was really fun!"

"Well, maybe if he needs someone to do a mike or something, or somebody to cue people who forget their lines, I'll jump in."

"That's the spirit!"

They walked away.  Rogue followed, looking typically bored.  She was just heading to Kurt's room to watch other people make fools of themselves, but she caught Logan's eye.

"Hey, Logan."

"Hey, kid."

"Why don'tcha try out fer the head bandit?" she asked bluntly.  

It startled Logan.  "What?"

"Try out fer the head bandit."

Logan snorted.  "Why on earth should I try out to be in Kurt's movie?" 

"Gee, I dunno," she said, rolling her eyes.  "Mebbe cuz ya insulted it in front of everybody.  Might be a nice gesture.  Now I figger you don't DO nice gestures, but whut kin it hurt?"

He glared at her.  She blinked her green eyes at him and stared, giving him her best puppy-dog look.  And as usual, he crumbled.  The glare dissolved into a sigh, complete with the uncrossing of the arms.   

"Fine, fine," he mumbled, and started for Kurt's room.  "But I'm only doin' this cuz I like 'ya, Stripes," he threw over his shoulder, and stalked away.

He didn't see her smiling behind him. 

~ X ~

The night proved fruitful, for the most part.  Kurt was quite happily overwhelmed with all the people who wandered into his room to see if they could help with the film.  Hank and Ororo were declared the official caterers, and Scott and Jean were named the script supervisor and the lighting director respectively.  Kitty was standing outside the door with Amara at about eight, waiting to see Kurt.  Amara was tired, and Kitty was annoyed, and Rahne looked eager.

"Man, I like SO wanted to try out for Miss Tina, but now I think I'll be stuck arranging furniture.  This blows!"

"Huh?" Rahne asked.

"'Booby' is the only one signed up to try out for the Sheriff!" Kitty said pointing at a sheet pinned to the door.

"You mean Scott isn't trying out?" Amara asked.

"No!  And it just like, kills me, because he'd be so good!  I saw the scene he did with Rogue last year, and he was awesome!  She was terrible, but he was great!  It's like…"  She slapped an imaginary person upside the head.  "Wa-paaah!  What was he thinking not trying out?  Now he's a guy you can work with!"  

Amara raised an eyebrow.  "Oo-la-la!  I think somebody's trying to get her flirt on!"  Rahne giggled.

"I'm very happy with Lance," Kitty said angrily, which didn't convince either of them.  "And I like, can't believe Bobby's going to be the Sheriff!  This sucks!  Where the hell is Roberto?  Or Sam?"

_"Those bandits are going to ruin everything all over again!  But I won't let them hurt you, Miss Tina!  I fear I will have to challenge their leader to a showdown!"_ they heard through the door.  Bobby was auditioning, saying the line with all the rhythm of a rock and yelling it in a monotone.  

Amara snickered.  "They were too chicken to try out."

Kitty snorted.  "Men.  So, are you going to try out for Miss Tina?"

"And play against that?  Girl, I'd rather take another cruise!  Besides, I like drawing.  I'd prefer to draw the sets."

"What about you, Rahne?"

"Costumes!" the Scottish girl said gleefully.  "Just have ta be careful of me claws," she said, and giggled again.

_"Oh.  Do be careful.  Sheriff."_  That painful, stilted line could only have been Jubilee.

A couple of seconds later, the door opened and Jubilee and Bobby walked out, looking rather smug.  

"Ha!  We got this in the bag!" Bobby said, and they sauntered away.

Kitty, Amara and Rahne peeked in and saw Kurt sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.  "Vhy me?" he muttered.  Then he looked up.  "Come in, ladies."

They did.  Kurt smiled at them from where he sat scribbling notes.  Kitty took in Kurt's room, which was covered in papers, plans and junk.  He'd been working really hard on this.

"So," he said, looking up from his writing, "Vass is up?  Do you all vant to try out for Miss Tina?"

The girls looked at each other, then blinked at Kurt.  Kurt put down his clipboard.

"Okay, let me try ziss."  He got down on his knees, grabbed Kitty's legs and pleaded, "Please, for za love of GOD, try out for Miss Tina!"

All the girls started laughing.  Kitty extricated herself from Kurt.  "Sorry, Fuzzy, but we actually came to see if we could be of any help behind the scenes."

"Actually, Kitty wants to act!" Amara blurted out.  "But Bobby sucks and she doesn't want to work with him.  And she called him BOOBY!  Ha ha!"

"Amara!" Rahne shrieked.  "Tha' is gerl talk!  Ya dunna do gerl talk in front a' boys!  Fer shame!"

It was Kurt's turn to laugh.  "Ladies, please.  Keety, if you vant to try out for za role just for fun, zat vould be great.  Amara, vhat is it you vant to do?"

"Draw the set," she said immediately.

"Done," he replied.  "Come up viss some designs ant show zem to me tomorrow, okay?"

"Oh, yes sir!" she said, snapping a salute.  

"And Rahne?"

"Costumes!" she said, just as gleefully as out in the hallway.

"Great!  Same sing.  Here is a script," he said, handing a copy to her.  "Za main sing is Miss Tina's dress.  Show me a design tomorrow, and take an inventory of vhat people own.  Zen you can haff za credit card and know vhat you'll need before you go shopping."

"Aye, captain!"

Kitty shook her head in disgust as the younger girls ran out.  She was still dismayed over the "Booby" comment.  Kurt just shrugged and closed the door.

"Why isn't Scott trying out for the part?" Kitty asked.

"Ach, he's having one of his self-doubt tings.  But let's try you, _ja_?"

Kitty sighed.  "Sure.  Besides, I've been over the script so many times I could say the part in my sleep!"

Kurt just smiled.

~ X ~

The next morning, the film was officially cast and everybody was getting ready for school.  The kitchen wasn't that crowded yet, so Kitty was spending some time with her science project.  She hummed to herself and peeked into the cupboard.  A skin had developed on the small bowl of Jell-O pudding she'd made a week ago, and she could see little bits of green forming.  

"Hee hee!  Mission Control, we like, totally have mold!" she said, and did a little dance.  "Oh, wow!  Biology SO rocks!  Now for that sticker.  Where did I put it?"  She hunted around for the sticky note, found it, and slapped it on the bowl.  It said, "I Am A Bio Project.  Do Not Eat Me."  Still humming to herself, she shut the cabinet and went on her way.

~ MOSEY ALONG TO PART TWO.  :D ~ 


	21. I Vant To Direct, Part Two

=== **I VANT TO DIRECT **===

Part 2:  _Bobby the Kid_

Kurt was absolutely unable to pay attention in school that day.  His entire brain was crammed with worries surrounding "The Legend of Sandy Gulch" --- especially the cast.  There were some bright spots, however.  Logan showed up hat in hand, insisted it was "Rogue's doing," and asked to try out.  He snarled appropriately, drew a prop gun like a pro, made excellent "beady eyes," and won the role of the head bandit.  But in the interest of fairness, Kurt had to audition the other two candidates for the role.  Sam "Cannonball" Guthrie had a good Southern drawl, but couldn't draw a prop gun or snarl to save his life.  And Jamie "Multiple" Madrox, a short, skinny sixth grader with a few zits and a squeaky voice, was just hilarious in all the wrong ways.  Kurt gave them the news that they hadn't made it, but appeased them --- Sam was quickly put in charge of set construction (probably a bad idea), and Jamie was asked to use his special talents to help with the crowd scenes.  They both agreed to this and walked away happy.

Then at about nine, he was making some notes when he heard a distinct quiet whirring noise and looked up.  There sat Professor Xavier, with a warm smile on his face, a page of dialogue in his hand, and the intention of auditioning.  After a few minutes of the professor reading the lines, it was clear that the narrator had arrived.

Well, at least something was going right.

~ X ~

"Evan, be careful viss za --- EVAN!"

- WHOMP -

- CRUNCH -

"Aw hell, boy, look where you're goin'!"

"Did you just call me BOY?" Evan asked, disgusted.  Sweat was dripping down his tawny forehead and into his big brown eyes.  He was heaving, holding up one end of a huge wooden post.  The middle of it was on the grass, broken off from the other end.

"Well ya are a boy!" Sam insisted, adjusting his baseball cap.  "Ain't like ah called ya a name, or nothin'!"

"Do you have any idea what 'boy' means to an upstanding black man, or are you just stupid?"

"Oh, shut up!  Both of you!" Kurt yelled.  He'd been holding the other end of the post.  After a quick sigh and a muttered German curse, he dropped it.  They'd need to bring in the spare.  "Vhere is Keety?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Hell if ah know," Sam said, squinting to the east.  "She's s'posta be here with the extra lumber.  Haulin' it in with Logan's old truck."

"Keety's driving?" Kurt asked, mortified.

Evan snickered.

It was Saturday, and set construction was underway.  Kurt left the broken post on the grass, grabbed a bottle of water, and poured the entire thing over his head.  He stood there in the sun, his tank top and shorts now clinging to his slim body, and sighed.  Evan came over --- too close.  Kurt shook himself off like a dog, peppering his friend with water, and wandered back to work, a hammer slipped into his belt, and a few nails tucked behind one elfish ear.  He was hot and tired from construction detail.  And now, on top of a broken post, he had the news that Kitty was behind the wheel.  He just prayed she got back quickly, because Kitty plus a vehicle equaled an accident looking to happen.  

On his way back he paused and looked at the set.  It was kind of exciting being here, actually.  About 30 miles from Bayville, on a plain pretty far from everything, was the remains of an 1850's town, mostly destroyed by a fire.  All the archaeological records and artifacts had already been salvaged, leaving just a bunch of burnt posts and house frames and what-not.  It was basically just a bunch of useless, forgotten, singed crapola.  But Kurt had gotten a tip from a local, wandered into the burnt-out main drag on Friday, and was seized by a brilliant idea.  

If they covered all the ingrown grass with gravel and sand, it could easily be the main street of some small Nevada city.  And better still, all of the frameworks on the drag were intact.  Kurt 'ported from structure to structure taking measurements and then had Scott chauffeur him to an art supply warehouse.  His eyes glittered as he stared at the huge reams of uncut canvas, and he dug around in his pocket for the credit card that Professor Xavier had loaned him for this project.  Everyone could work together to do a little reinforcement on the framework, paint canvas, cover the existing framework with it, _et__ voilá_!  Instant town!  

So with Sam as the crew-chief, nearly every available guy in the Institute was on the site, sweating and measuring and sawing and nailing in the noonday sun.  Conspicuously missing was Bobby, who was eating chips and learning lines back at the mansion.  But considering the number of disasters he managed to cause at home, it wasn't a big loss.  Things were coming together.  Guys were passing lumber, yelling out orders for nails, and tapping things into place with hammers.  The biggest bit of luck they had was that all they had to really "build" was a saloon, which was easy.  They already had the outside of it, as it was part of the main drag.  Based on the doorway, they dragged three logs around behind the façade and laid them out on the ground.  With the façade as one side, the logs made a big square on the grass.  Kurt and Scott brought in flat planks of wood and nailed them over the logs to make a sturdy floor, while Roberto and Ray drilled in two tall posts at the newly-created back corners.  

At about three, the room was taking shape.  Kurt shimmied up one of the posts, his fur glistening with sweat, and grabbed one end of a big bar of wood.  The other side was hoisted up by Sam, and they each nailed in their end of the bar to the posts.  Two other crossbeams connected the posts to the façade and now they had a cube.  Scott swung black drop cloth over the whole thing (no lights to hang), and they had a saloon.  Ray started cheering, "We finished the ba-ar!  We finished the ba-ar!" and swung Roberto around in a crazed square dance.  Sam and Kurt ignored this and moved on to the saloon doors.  Kurt had found them at a second-hand store on his way home from the art supply warehouse.  They nailed some fresh wood to the old, burned doorway, and attached the door hinges to the new wood.  

Scott, Sam, Ray, and Roberto stood back and stared at their door, which was looking pretty amazing, considering none of them were carpenters.  They nodded at Kurt.  He nodded back and inaugurated it.  Wearing nothing but shorts, his tool belt and a cowboy hat (yee ha!), he pushed open the saloon doors and padded into the street like a dusty rider, his eyes shaded with a stick of milkweed hanging out of his mouth, his thumbs hooked in his belt.  It was a hell of sight --- Evan took a picture.  The doors swung quieter than a prairie night and thwacked shut behind Kurt.  And they didn't fall off the doorframe!  A cheer went up.  Scott was giving delighted noogies right and left and Sam was jumping up and down and whistling.  Everybody was immensely proud of themselves. 

But they still had loads to do, even with Hank, Logan, and little Jamie helping out on the other side with the reinforcement.  They still had to build porch supports, construct a sturdy balcony, and haul in an old bench that had been liberated from Ororo's garden.  She had yet to notice this.  And they still needed more wood.  By five o'clock, Kurt was sweaty and exhausted and ready to get back to the mansion to clean up and have dinner.  

He had almost forgotten about Kitty, until he heard it: ecstatic honking.  He ran around the corner.

It was a miracle.  Not only was the truck parked _perfectly_, but the back was full of wood, and there was nothing phased through it --- no phone booths, no street signs, nothing.  Not a scratch.  Kurt's mouth dropped open.  Kitty was sitting in the driver's seat, in overalls and a baseball cap, honking and waving and grinning at him.  He grinned back and ran over.

"Keety, did you do all ziss by yourself?"

"Yup!" she said cheerfully.  "What do you think?"

"It's great!  You didn't crash!  Vhat did you do?"

"Well, I just kinda went real slowly and carefully, cuz like, I didn't wanna drop any of the wood, right?  And I guess slowing down did it, because I didn't hit a single thing!  So I got here and I realized I didn't hit anything, and I was like, oh my God!  How cool is that!  So I honked.  Oooh, Mr. Logan's gonna be so proud of me!"

"Vell, I'm pretty proud of you, too."

She blushed.  "Hop on the back, Fuzzy!  I gotta pull this around."

"Sure!"

He hopped onto the back of the truck and bounced around gently with the lumber.  Kitty carefully maneuvered the truck into the center of "town."  And she didn't drop a stick.

~ X ~

The canvas covers for the framework were sporting their first coats of paint, and the quaint little town signs (made of particle board) were all being cut to the proper shapes and painted nicely by the other girls, who were smart enough to be doing their work at the mansion, inside the Blackbird's hangar, where they had space, light, and an AC.   The air was thick with the sounds of laughter and paint slopping.

"How are you all doing?" Jean Grey asked, sticking her head into the hangar at about seven.

"We're okay," Amara responded, turning her attention from the storefront she was sketching.  "But we could stand some dinner, though, right everybody?"

The gaggle of workers seemed to agree.  Jean was about to say that dinner was being served in the dining room, but she just stared.  The hanger might as well have been Santa's Workshop.  Jubilee was off somewhere learning lines, and Kitty was off helping the boys, but Amara, Rogue, Ororo and Rahne were all here, speckled with paint, working on the second facade.  The first was laid out on the ground in a few huge sections.  It was an enormous front with a dentist's office, a huge general store that took up most of the space, and a smithy.  The roof was another separate canvas.  

The "second floor" of the facade (which would eventually have a balcony) would sit on top of the dentist's office.  It was a brothel.  Why the brothel was on top of the dentist's office was anybody's guess, but Amara wasn't much of a city planner and she figured no one would be looking that closely anyway.  Besides, Rahne had gone a little crazy with the decoration, almost making up for its bizarre placement.  All the windows were dark, with little eyes peering out over flashes of lipstick.  

Then came the real fun --- naming the place.  Amara had suggested "Kinky's," but that was voted down.  In the end, they decided on "The Striped Tabby," an ode to the raucous, sexy Tabitha "Boom-Boom" Smith.  Everybody laughed their asses off for a few minutes and Rogue decided that Kurt would have to get a close-up of the brothel's sign, and that Tabitha would simply have to see the film.  

Their current project --- the facade with Tina's saloon, the bank, and the post office --- was still only in the sketching phase, although the porch canopy was finished.  All they needed were the boys' supports to hang it.  Rogue flipped a bang out of her face and kept going over Amara's light pencil marks with charcoal.  A few paces behind her, Ororo was following with some paint.  Rahne was taking a moment to stretch.  She would be leaving soon, to see if she could bang out some more costumes.  Kurt had liked her designs, and she'd already started sewing the night before, stopping off at a fabric store on her way home from school.  Everyone had been working like greased lightning since nine in the morning.  With four workers on the floor and Jean popping in to help whenever she could, they had made so much progress that Sunday's work would be a breeze.

"Uh, dinner's ready," Jean managed, and then, "Wow!"

The girls giggled and went to clean up.  

~ X ~

"So Kurt, I have some suggestions for this scene.  I was thinking that maybe you might want to do a brief re-write here."

"Vhat?  Vhy?"

"Because, well, I dunno.  I was reading it through last night, and the sheriff just seems so … stilted."

Kurt moaned and flopped onto his bed.  "Sco-ott!"

"What?"

"You are za script supervisor.  Do you know vhat zat means?"

"Yeah.  I work with the script."

"_Nein_.  It means you verk viss uzzer people who verk viss za script.  You ah a coach, not za writer.  Capiche?"

There was only silence, and Kurt sat up to get a look.  Scott was just staring at him, looking lost and a little sad.

"I was just trying to help," he said softly.

Nothing like a good dose of guilt late at night.  Kurt was ready to go to bed.  He did not need this right now.  He gave a long-suffering sigh and motioned Scott over.  "Let me see."

The argument went on and on.  They were going over the script and discussing the pivotal scene when Jean came floating in, tangled up in some wiring and holding a large lamp structure.  

"Uh, Kurt?  You've worked lights in school plays and stuff, right?"

"Um, _ja_," he said, looking up at her.  "Vhy?"

"Well, is that anything like lighting for a film?"

He just blinked at her.  "Not in za slightest.  Jean, I sought you said you knew vhat you vere doing!"

Jean looked kind of embarrassed and bit her lip.  "Yeah, I thought I did too."

Kurt put his face in his hands.

~ X ~

Kitty was cradling the phone with one shoulder and talking to Lance while simultaneously dragging some chairs out of the kitchen.

"No!  Lance, I'm honestly stuck here every day for the next few days working on Kurt's…  Shut up, you moron, that's not funny! … … It's a Western. … Yep, that's what I said! …  Kurt's not the sheriff, he's the director."  She bumped her way out of the kitchen, barely missing swinging a chair leg into a wall.  "Stop laughing!  …  Yeah.  No.  NO, Lance!"  She laughed.  "Bye!"  Hanging up the phone with one hand and putting a chair down with the other, she made for the kitchen again.

Her science project was out of the cupboard and sitting on the counter.  She'd taken it out to grab some dishes for use on the saloon's tiny table, and was just getting some cups when Jubilee waltzed in, wearing a plush bathrobe and fluffy slippers, looking fresh and coiffed and decidedly the opposite of Kitty, who was flecked with paint and dirt from helping make the facades and hauling lumber all day.

"Hi sweetie, how goes it?" Jubilee said easily, opening the refrigerator to grab the bottle of orange juice.  "How are all the behind-the-scenes people doing?"

"We're all fine," Kitty replied.  

She was a little annoyed.  Her brain was fizzling from all the activity that day and here was Jubilee, normally a minor player in the household, acting like she owned the place.  Kitty sighed, and without a thought, tossed her science project pudding in the fridge.  The container skidded along the shelf and bumped into the back wall.  The "don't eat me" sticker fell off.  

"Speaking of fine, like, where the heck were you?  We really could have used your help 'behind the scenes,' or whatever you said."  

Jubilee gave a small, false laugh.  "Darling, I'm the lead.  I'm strictly on-camera.  What if I helped with those heavy beams and something fell on me?"  She gave a little innocent pout.

Kitty leaned against the counter and raised an incredulous brown eyebrow.  "You're like, kidding, right?"

~ X ~

And so the weekend flew by in a flurry of amateur carpentry, hot dog lunches, painting, sewing, writing, rehearsing, and trips to the hardware store.  Things had reached a fevered pitch by Sunday night.  The mansion was full of confused people running into each other with fabric and microphones and shouting at each other for water bottles and light fixtures, packing things up to drag out to the set on Monday.  It was complete chaos.  Professor Xavier stayed out of it mostly, staying in his office taking care of school business and learning his lines.  He was just happy that no "situations" had surfaced otherwise Kurt's film would have been dead in the water.  

As it was, the boy had taken an incredibly stupid risk by inviting everyone at the Institute to participate.   He had builders who couldn't build (Evan), actors who couldn't act (Bobby and Jubilee), and "volunteers" who were clearly driving him up the wall (Scott and Jean).  But it didn't seem prudent to mention any of this.  Kurt was looking more haggard with each passing day, but the boy had been so excited that his teacher had even agreed to let him make the film that he was determined to complete it.  

Charles glanced at his lines one more time before he sensed someone at the door.

"Come in, Rahne," he said.

Rahne trotted in.  "Hullo, Professor," the Scottish girl said.  "Just a final costume check.  I got ya a nice wig, but ya do have a pair of jeans, a botton shert, and some boots lyin' around, right?"

The professor smiled.  "Indeed I do."

"Excellent!  That saves me some work!  Ah'm so busy with Miss Tina's dress right now, ah haven't a minute ta spare.  And o' course, tisn't like 'Miss Tina' is bein' of any help at all," she growled.

"Pardon?"

She sighed.  "Jubilee's gone Hollywood!"

"Gone Hollywood?  How so?"

"Aye asked fer her help, on her own costume, an' she said…"  Rahne went into her Betty Davis impression, which, if you can imagine a small Scottish girl trying to do Betty Davis, was pretty funny.  "… Sorry darlin', but ah'm an actress now.  We don't DO costumes."  She snapped out of it.  "Can you believe tha'?  Ah put in all this work painting sets, and now ah'm the head costumer, and Jubes is carrying on like she's Britney Spears or somethin'!  She's no' even any good!  She doesn't ha' the right to act like such a diva!"

The professor could say nothing.  He just closed his eyes in simple horror, because Jubilee had come from nowhere and was standing in the doorway.  Rahne huffed and puffed for a minute.  She finally settled down and looked at the professor.  Then she turned around and all the color drained out of her face.  Jubilee, on the other hand, had turned an interesting shade of purple.

"How … dare … you," she said, starting to spark up.

"Oh dear," the professor mumbled, looking for some cover.

Rahne stuck out her chest and stood her ground.  

"Who the hell are you to talk about being any good?" Jubilee snarled, advancing on the Scot.  Her voice could have burned a hole through steel.  "You sat there and smiled while Amara, in all her wisdom, asked you to paint a freakin' brothel on top of a dentist's office!  And the only reason you're doing anything at all is because you were too chicken to audition, and then you whined at Kurt until he asked you to draw some lousy pictures for him!"

"Tha' is completely untrue!" Rahne snarled.  "An' wha' in tha hell are yew complainin' about? Yew were sittin' an yer pansy ass eatin' bonbons while tha rest o' us were werkin' our fingars ta tha bone!  Take tha' back!"

"I will not!" Jubilee shrieked.

"Take tha' back, gerl, or ah swear ta God, ah'll rip your costume to shreds!  With me teeth!" Rahne hollered, morphing into her midway form and brandishing her claws.

"Oh good!  Then I can look like a whore!  And since I work on top of a freakin' dentist's office, I can hand out free toothbrushes!"

"VILL YOU TWO SHUT UP?!"

Everyone looked startled and stared at the doorway.  Kurt was standing there, tapping one furry foot and looking utterly disgusted.  "Vhat za hell is za matter viss you two?"

Behind the girls, the professor sighed in relief.

"Vell?"

Rahne and Jubilee looked at the floor.  When they glanced up again, an extremely irritated blue furry guy was still staring them down, expecting an answer.

"She started it," Rahne said finally, pointing a claw at Jubilee.

"WHAT?!"

"Zat's enough.  Rahne, you're doing a great job.  And Jubilee, you're also doing a great job.  Now vhat I need is a progress report.  Costumes?" he finished, looking at Rahne, who looked sheepish and morphed back into herself.

"Everyone has things ta wear, but I had to go to a thrift store and pick up some long skirts fer all of us gerls today.  And Miss Tina's costume is almost done.  Ah jest need her to come to my room fer a final fittin'."

"_Ser guht_."  He looked at the girls, who seemed a lot calmer.  "Now can ve all go back to verk vissout killing each uzzer?"

"Yeah," they mumbled.

"Good.  Get to it.  I haff to find Keety."

The girls left with nary a peep.  Kurt and the professor caught each other's eye.  The professor smiled.  Kurt nodded.  He 'ported off to check on something else.

~ X ~

Monday arrived, and with it, the promise of shooting that afternoon.  Kitty had loaded down Logan's truck with plenty of stuff to put inside the saloon.  Jean was filling the back of her SUV with lighting equipment.  Her eyes were red-rimmed from cramming Film Lighting for Dummies the night before.  Thanks to Rahne's efforts, Scott's trunk was full of dresses and hats.  He just hoped nobody pulled him over.  The canvas covers, all dry and ready to go, were folded neatly in the trunk of Ororo's van.  At about noon, Hank was filling the back seat with edibles --- sandwiches, juice, water, spare food in big Igloo containers, and a tent contraption that they could work under and not get nailed by the sun.   

And at school, tensions were running high.  Most of the other directors in Kurt's film class looked like wrecks, and they hadn't even started shooting yet.  Kurt looked the best of any of them.  But then again, the Kurt that everyone saw was a hologram.  His stomach was doing flip-flops and he was too nervous to hold a fork, let alone eat.  Kitty was nibbling on her egg salad sandwich and glancing back and forth between Scott, Kurt, and Jean, who looked bad, worse, and exhausted, respectively.  At another table, Bobby was sitting down to lunch with Jubilee.  She was eating some heated rice and vegetables, and looking at him with interest.  

"I've got a treat today!" he said, rubbing his hands together.

"Oh, yeah?  What?"

"Something to give me macho-man strength for my role as the brave sheriff!" he said, waggling his eyebrows and pulling out a piece of Tupperware from his brown bag.

He'd snagged something untouched and delightful from the mansion's refrigerator.

Pudding.

~ TO BE CONTINUED! ~


	22. I Vant to Direct, Part Three

Hi, everybody!  Sorry it's been so long between chappies.  School started and the past two weeks have been hell on earth.  As for you lovely people who reviewed and guessed what would happen, I will say the following: one of you is right.  

And I have more to report in the Good News Department: Kopah, the proprietor of Wagnerszenen, has just posted the picture that I drew for the cover of this little collection.  Open another browser window and go here (sorry about the spacing, it's really all rammed together)

h t t p : / / w w w 3 . s y m p a t i c o . c a / t h e k o p e s / n i g h t c r a w l e r / 

and then go to The Fanwork Page.  Choose Fanart.  Scroll to the bottom of the Fanart page and check out the black-and-white one.  Enjoy!

=== **I VANT TO DIRECT** ===

Part 3: _Mavericks_

School ended and the entire cast and crew went back to the mansion to get in their assorted vehicles and drive out to the site.  The initial idea had been to use the Blackbird, but the professor thought that would look way too suspicious.  So it was back to the house to load up and drive away.  

Kurt was whistling and packing a bag with things he would need.  He jammed on his beloved baseball cap (a red monstrosity that said "Bonn Rock Haus") and grabbed a couple of extra scripts, even though that was overkill.  The movie was very short and besides, everyone already knew the story.  It was a basic Western: bandits invade, sheriff stops them, wins the girl's heart and rides off into the sunset.  

But there was a catch.  Guns had been banned in the town, so the sheriff and citizens were going to frighten the bandits away by pretending their town was haunted.  Kurt stuffed the scripts into his bag and shlepped it out into the hall, where he was met by Jubilee.  She was panting.  Amara went running by with Rahne, each of them carrying a tackle box full of make-up.

"Kurt!" Jubilee said.

"Hang on," Kurt replied, stopping her with a hand.  "Amara!  Rahne!  Vere is zat stuff going?"

"Logan's truck!" Amara yelled, spinning around and running backwards for a second.  "Kitty's driving us out to the site!"

"Yeh'd better get a move-on there, Kurt!" Rahne called.  "We're leavin' in five minutes!"

"Be right zere!"  He turned back to Jubilee, who looked positively panicked.  "Vhat's up, Jubilee?"

"It's Bobby!  You have to come!" she said, dragging him along.  He barely kept his hat on his head.

Kitty materialized halfway through the wall with a big bag of supplies in one hand and car keys in the other.  She watched Jubilee drag Kurt off.  Puzzled, she stepped into the hall proper and followed them.  

~ X ~  
Jubilee finally halted.  Kurt dropped his big bag on the floor and stared curiously at the door to the boy's bathroom.  

"Bobby's been in there since we got back from school, GROANING, and he hasn't come out.  I'm getting worried!"

"Maybe it's jast nerves?" Kurt asked.  He was stalling.  The last thing he wanted to do was go into the bathroom and possibly see another guy with his pants down sitting on the john.  And he was pretty sure what request was coming next.

"Could you please go in there and check on him?"

He sighed.  "Okay, okay.  Shoo for a second, _ja_?"

She walked down the hall and met Kitty.  Kurt screwed up his courage and entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.  Jubilee explained what she knew to Kitty while they waited.  Finally Kurt shut the door behind him and came over, his face contorted in frustration.

"Well, what happened?" Jubilee asked.  "Is he alright?"

"_Nein_, he isn't alright," Kurt snapped.  "He's holding his stomach, he srew up everyvere, ant all I can get out of him is…"  He held his stomach.  "Ooooh!  Bad pudding!"  He straightened up.  "Vhat za hell is zat all about?" 

Jubilee looked alarmed, but Kitty's eyes went wide as saucers.

"Oh hell," she muttered, turning around.  "He didn't!  He couldn't have!"  She dropped her bags and ran for the kitchen, leaving Jubilee baffled and Kurt a cross between baffled and fuming.

A minute later she was back, looking utterly furious.  "That retard ate my science project!!!" she screamed.  "No wonder he's sick!"

Jubilee was still confused.  "Science project?"

"It was an experiment to see if I could grow mold on pudding.  I kept it in the cupboard for like, a week, and I was getting results.  I like…" she huffed in irritation.  "I put a freakin' sign on the thing!  And now I can't find it anywhere!"

"Oh great!" Jubilee wailed.  "My leading man is down for the count!"

"That is like, so totally beside the point it isn't even funny, Jubilee.  Thanks to Ice-Boy, all my work is history!"

"You care about science more than Bobby?!" Jubilee yelled.

"No, I care about MOLD more than Bobby!" Kitty snapped.

"STOP!" Kurt hollered.  They did.  He took a deep breath and looked at his watch.  There was a buzzing of voices by the front door and horns honking.  They had to head to the set.  He ran his fingers through his hair and cursed in German.  "Keety, ve haff to fix ziss.  Now." 

Kitty was still pissed off about her pudding.  She fixed Kurt with a 'you're a dead man' stare and said, "Whaddaya mean 'vee,' vhite man?"

Kurt glared at her, arms akimbo.  A few awkward seconds under his withering gaze and she folded like a collapsible card table.

"Sorry.  Okay, Jubilee, you tell the professor what happened and ask him to stay here with Bobby.  He doesn't have to be on set right now, right Kurt?"

"Right.  Ve'll film his bit tomorrow."

"And you can come with us," Kitty finished.

But Jubilee was shaking her head.  "No way."

"What?"

"No way.  Bobby and I have chemistry.  I mean, honestly!  Who's going to replace him that would possibly be good enough to work with me?  If he's not doing it, I'm not doing it."

Kitty went bug-eyed at this display of arrogance and obstinacy.  She looked at Kurt, expecting to see him in a very pale shade of blue, the color he turned when he was extremely angry or upset.  Perhaps there would be a throbbing vein in his forehead.  Instead, he was the picture of calm.

"Wow.  Too bad.  Okay, then you stay here viss Bobby.  Ve vill find somebody else to fill za roles.  Come on, Keety."

In one smooth motion, he shouldered his bag with one hand and took Kitty's hand with the other.  They both walked down the hall, Kitty in shock, leaving Jubilee standing in front of the bathroom door.

"Um, Kurt?"

"Ja?"

"How are we 'fixing' this, again?"

Kurt sighed.  "I don't know.  I'll figure it out."

Just as they hit the entrance hall, Jubilee's voice echoed back at them.  

"Hang on, Bobby, I'm coming!"

~ X ~

Kurt bounced around in the back of the pick-up next to Amara, Rahne and lots of make-up.  He was getting really nervous.  They were about fifteen minutes away from the set, he was down two leads, and as yet he had no back-ups.  This was not good.  Fortunately, the first few shots he had to get were establishing shots of "Sandy Gulch," with all of its citizens, and the big scene where the bandits come busting in.  That would take a while and give him some time to think.  

Kitty drove at a decent (but safe) clip and got them there all too soon.  The gravel and sand stuff for the "desert ground" had been delivered and spread early Monday morning.  Kurt had supervised this.  He hopped out with the girls, who squealed at the sight of their soon-to-be town.  By 4:30, the set was ready and everybody who was heading on-screen was in make-up or getting into their costumes.  Kurt was busy in the saloon.  Jean swished by in a long skirt, boots, a loose blouse held in place with a vest and a cowboy hat, and began to set up some lights.  She winked at Kurt.

"You look beautiful, Jean."

"Why thank you!" she said.  "Hey Scott, are you ready?"

"Yeah."  

Scott wandered in through the saloon doors and approached the director.  Even though he looked a little depressed, he cut a mighty fine figure in his jeans, boots, shirt, vest, and cowboy hat.  He'd even put on spurs.  

"Yee ha," Jean said, a bit of a sultry growl in her voice.  

Kurt approved, too.  "Awooo!  Looking sharp, Scott!"

"Whoopee.  I said I didn't want to be on camera!"  He crossed his arms as if he thought the whole idea was unclean.

"Too bad.  You'll look great," Kurt replied, slapping his friend on the back.  "Go ahead, Jean, tell him!"

"He already knows he's hot," she said, brushing some hair out of her face.  "He's just fishing for compliments!"

"Damn mind readers," Scott said with a smirk.  

"By za vay, Scott, I need to talk to you.  Jean, could you give us a second?"

"Sure."  She wandered away to help Amara with some make-up stuff.

Kurt motioned him over to a rickety table, and they sat down.  He looked at Scott seriously, and square in the eye.

"Kurt, what's up?"

"I need a favor from you," he said, and began to dig around in his pocket.  "Because is seems zat ve ah short a sheriff."

Scott stared.  "Short a sheriff?  What?  What the hell happened to 'the magnificent Bobby?'"

"Bobby ate Keety's science project pudding ant is barfing all over za place.  He can't perform."

Scott took this in.  "Jeez.  Well, I know this probably a cruel thing to say, but the guy was lousy.  Maybe it's for the best.  What's the favor you need?"

Kurt held up a gleaming silver star.  There was a slight pause before Scott figured it out.

"Oh, no.  Oh, HELL no.  Forget it.  I'm not an actor, Kurt.  That scene with Rogue last year proved it."

"Please, Scott!  You know in your heart you can do it.  Ant you know za script better zan anybody else."  

They looked at each other, one harried, the other looking like a caught fish.  

"_Bitte_."

The stand-off dragged on until almost forever.  But in the end, Scott swiped the star out of his friend's furry hand and pinned it on his vest.  Kurt smiled.

"I owe you."

"Aw, you don't owe me.  What are friends for, right?"  

~ X ~

Kurt spent some time getting establishing shots of the "town" (including The Striped Tabby and all the other little signs).  Finally everyone was ready.  The Townsfolk (Jean, Scott, Amara, Rahne, Kitty, a bucketful of Jamies in different disguises, Sam and Evan) got into their places on the main drag.  The Bandits (Roberto, two Jamies and Ray), with Logan as their leader, were hanging around.  Rogue, who had outright refused to be on camera, was dressed in her usual black and holding a boom mike (a microphone on a long pole, for the uninitiated) over one shoulder.

"Okay!" Kurt yelled, hopping up on a box.  "Hello, everybody!  Ve ah going to shoot ze opening seekvence.  Za big bad bandits ah invading, okay?  Places, people!  Act natural!"

Rogue stood up on a big box near Kurt and held out the boom mike out over the "town square," but out of range of the camera.  Logan and the Bandits made their way to the far edge of the set to watch a small monitor, its camera trained on Kurt for their signal to enter.

"Okay, everybody know the plan?" Logan asked.  "Soon as his hand twirls, we come rushing around the back corners and charge down the middle yelling."

Ray, Roberto and two Jamies nodded at him.  One Jamie drew his gun inexpertly and grinned.  Logan rolled his eyes.  

"All right, townsfolk, be ready to move!" Kurt yelled, starting his digital camera (set up on a tripod) rolling.  "In sree, two, one … action!"

He looked through the lens and was quite dismayed.  The townsfolk moved, all right, but nobody had a clue where they were going.  Most of them were too busy waving at the camera and making faces to look in front of them.  There were several collisions.  Kurt watched this in horror.  After about ten agonizing seconds of people smashing into each other (a few Jamies improvised a square dance) and feigning conversation, he started waving his arms and yelling in an attempt to stop everyone from moving and talking … 

and accidentally cued the Bandits.

Logan went roaring in with Roberto, Ray, and the two Jamies behind him, firing off his prop gun and yelling "darn horn tootin'" and other Southwestern BS at the bewildered "citizens," who acted on impulse and scattered.  Kitty screamed and quite sensibly ran into the saloon.  Scott and Rahne dashed off to the right, in between two buildings.  Jean zipped past camera to the left, taking Sam and few Jamies along.  And Evan (dressed as a blacksmith) panicked and tried to run through a painted "door" on one of the canvases.  He smashed into the fabric and fell over, a bit dazed.  Kurt winced.

The bandits were standing around waiting for Logan to make his first big "speech."  He opened his mouth and…

"I'm okay!  I'm okay!" Evan yelled, distracting everybody.  Clearly stunned from the collision, he charged the canvas again.

-Whonk! -

- Shhhhk! -

"Whoa!"

- Thud -

Needless to say, he left a bit of a hole --- right on the door to the Bank.  Amara shrieked.  Rahne gasped.

"Son of a bitch!" Kurt muttered then yelled, "CUT!"  He hit 'stop.'

After Amara and Rahne temporarily fixed the hole Evan made, the whole cast regrouped and tried again.  And again.  And again.  After six takes of crappy acting and people smashing into each other, Kurt was pulling his hair out.  He called it quits and decided to get a close-up on Logan saying his line.  Logan, to his credit, did a damn good job.  It wasn't hard to yell, "Citizens of Sandy Gulch, we've come for whatever you've got!  Yeee HAW!" and fire a gun, but he did both without screwing up, so Kurt was relieved.

During a quick break, Kurt made another casting change.  Most of the "actors" were lazing in the shade of Ororo and Hank's tent and drinking water.  None of them had any clue that they now had a brand-new sheriff.  

And in a few minutes, if he could be persuasive enough, they'd have a new Miss Tina.  Kurt was inside the saloon, setting up his camera and getting a nice shot of the real glass window that looked out onto the "town."  Squinting into the eyepiece, he said, "A little to the left!"  Jean was positioning a light.  Kitty walked up to him.  She was carrying Jubilee's costume over her shoulder: a pink dress with a long flouncy skirt and a laced corset top.

"Hey Kurt?" she asked.

He turned to her.  "Yeah?  Oh, za dress!  Keety, I'm glad you haff it.  Can you come viss me for a second?  I need to ask you somesing.  Tanks!"

Kitty was too startled by the barrage of speech to protest and let him tug her out of the saloon.  They went around behind the set, where they had some privacy, and skidded to a stop in the grass.

"Whoa!  Kurt, what's this all about?"

"Ve haff a new sheriff," he said.

"Who?"

"Scott."

"Oh, thank God.  He'll be great.  As opposed to Bobby the Boob."

Kurt smiled.  "Yes, he vill.  Keety, vhen you did zat 'just for fun' audition for me… you vere great, too.  I vant you to play Miss Tina."

It was as though time had stopped for a moment.  When reality came rushing back at Kitty, she had to shake her head to clear it.  "What?  Me?  Kurt, that's like, nuts!  No!"

Kurt was stunned.  "No?  Vhy not?  I sought you vanted to play Miss Tina!"

"Yah, I did, but like, I dunno.  I'm not really an actress.  I mean, I proofread the script, and it was fun, and I helped with the sets, and that was fun, but like … I dunno.  I don't know if I could handle that much pressure.  I mean, what if I screw up and like, mess up your movie?  That would totally suck!"

Kurt, exhausted from the heat and the miserable hour of shooting, looked at her for a second and chuckled.  That became a giggle and worked its way into a deep belly-laugh that got Kitty laughing too, for no apparent reason.  Finally, he got himself under control.  

"Oh, Keety.  You're so funny.  Everybody else has messed up ziss movie so badly zat you could speak Chinese ze entire time and it vouldn't make a difference!  Trust me, _fraulein_, you have nussing to fear.  Okay?  Besides, you vill be great.  I can feel it."

A small smile.  "Really?"

"Really.  Now, ve need to film your first scene viss Scott," he said gently.  "Go primp, _Kätchen_.  You're on in fifteen."

Kitty hugged him and then pulled back.  "You make me so totally … happy.  Thanks."  She went to get ready.

"To make you happy, I vould do anysing," he murmured.

~ X ~

The rest of the day passed quickly.  They got most of the Sheriff/Miss Tina scenes taken care of with little trouble, thanks in part to two people who knew their lines, and attempted the "ride off into the sunset" bit just as sun set.  Kurt wasn't sure how it had turned out.  He would have to review the tapes when they got home.  

"Okay everybody, great job!" he said, as they all packed up.  

With the exception of the "Welcome to Stupidville" opening scene, things weren't looking that bad.  Kurt still had to film the moment the sheriff entered the saloon after first "doing battle" with the Bandits, because he hadn't caught that with Scott.  That entrance bled right into the first scene, which explained why guns were banned in Sandy Gulch.  He also needed to film the final scene with the sheriff and the citizens getting rid of the bandits.  This was sure to involve lots of talcum powder and people making wailing noises.  And finally, he needed the professor to do his narration and tie everything together.

So that night, he settled down at his computer to begin sifting through takes.  He started putting together a small title sequence.  

He was still typing at 3 am.

~ X ~

The next morning at six, Kurt stumbled into the kitchen. He wore nothing but boxers, floppy socks and deodorant (the one saving grace).  Cricking his neck, he walked straight to the coffee machine and poured himself a mug, ignoring the fact that this was Logan's personal coffee maker and he wasn't supposed to get anywhere near it.  He wasn't even supposed to be having coffee, but sleep had abandoned him last night, he was looking at another long day, and he just didn't give a damn anymore.  He absently pulled at the hair on his fuzzy chest and some of it came off in his hand.

"_Vunderbar_," he muttered caustically.

"Kurt?"

He turned around to see Kitty standing in the doorway in her jammies, rubbing some sleep out of her big brown eyes.

"Like, what the heck are you doing in here?"

He sighed and took a slurp of coffee.  "Trying to vake up."

She walked over and looked at him closely, taking in the bags under his eyes.  "Kurt, that's like, so bullshit.  You didn't sleep at all last night."  She brushed his shoulder and some blue stuff went flying.  "Oh, you poor baby!  You're shedding!"

Kitty knew Kurt, and Kitty knew the one thing that made Kurt shed: extreme stress.

"Keety?"

"Hm?"

"Hold me."

She did.  He put down his coffee cup and returned the hug.  The early morning light caught the tips of Kitty's shoulders and Kurt rested his cheek against her neck. 

~ X ~

"Ohhh."

Bobby Drake groaned again and opened his eyes.  A few blinks and it was clear he was in the infirmary, although he couldn't recall how he'd gotten there.  The last thing he remembered was Kurt leaning over him in the bathroom.  After that, it was all a blank.  He turned his head and saw Jubes dozing in a chair.  The early morning light seeped in through the windows.  Her long black hair shimmered like obsidian.  It struck Bobby suddenly that she was incredibly beautiful.  Had she been here with him all night?  He wondered if perhaps he'd been given drugs, because he'd never looked at Jubilee this way.

He cleared his throat.  "Jubes?"  The word was raspy.  His throat was terribly sore.

Jubilee took in a big sniff of air through her nose and opened her eyes.  She looked at the bed, where Bobby was smiling at her.

"Bobby?"

"Hey."

"Hey!" she said, smiling.  "How do you feel?"

"Great."

"You're so full of it.  Seriously, are you better?"

"A little," he lied.  "Hey, Jubes?  I gotta know.  Am I still the sheriff?"

Jubilee bit her lip.  The other kids had come back from the set with the news that Scott and Kitty were the leads and that everything was humming along.

"Well, let me put it this way.  You'll always be my sheriff."

~ X ~

That day at school, tensions were mounting.  Kurt had no homework done.  His teachers (save Ms. Enkler) gave him funny looks.  Fortunately nobody gave him any funny sniffs --- Kitty had convinced him to take a shower before leaving that morning.  Bobby wasn't even at school.  He was still being treated in the infirmary for food poisoning.  Kitty had managed to grow some mighty powerful stuff on that pudding, as the professor had figured out from a blood test.  

Around the lunch table, most of the kids from the Institute were showing the effects of yesterday's filming.  Jubilee was offering her services in make-up and getting along much better with Rahne and Amara, although both of the girls were still getting over their friend's little power trip.  Scott was a nervous wreck, terrified about how his performance would look on film.  Jean was snoring on his shoulder.  Rogue was reading a book and fanning herself.  She'd foolishly worn her most modest all-black ensemble and the weather had gotten very hot.  Kurt was stuck in the lunch line waiting glumly for his chicken surprise.  Kitty was leaning over a salad and looking really out of it.

And Lance was mad.

He strode over to the X-table, stood behind Kitty and cleared his throat loudly.  She turned around.

"Oh hey, Lance, what's up?"

"Grab your lunch and come with me, Pretty Kitty.  We have to talk."

"Now?  But Lance, I'm trying to eat!"

"Come ON!" he said, and grabbed her arm.

She sighed and snagged her food with her free hand.  "Lance, stop yanking me!  Jeez!"  But she let herself get dragged away.

He got her alone under a tree.

"So are you done with the damn film yet?"

Kitty stuffed some salad in her mouth and glared at him.  "What?"

"Well, you wasted your weekend helping that blue freak.  I wanna know if I can take you out tonight, or what."

Kitty blinked at him.  "Freak?  Wha---?"  She snorted in disgust.  "Lance, I swear, sometimes you can be like, such an arrogant bastard.  And no, you can't take me out tonight.  We have to like, finish filming."

Lance looked vaguely disappointed.  "Where are you filming?"

"Pssh!  Like it's any of your business.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have like, ten minutes to finish my lunch."

She stalked away back to the table, shoving some more lettuce into her mouth.  Lance looked after her thoughtfully.

~ You want part four?  Why … here it is! ~  


	23. I Vant to Direct, Part Four

=== **I VANT TO DIRECT** ===

Part 4: _Shoot-Out at the Less-Than-Okay Corral_

That afternoon, everyone went back to the site.  Hank and Ororo had set up their tent with big plates of sliced fruit and little sandwiches for everyone.  They sat down contentedly in lawn chairs under the canopy and spent the next few hours yakking about politics and watching everyone else sweat in the sun.  The day was a scorcher for May --- 80 degrees.  Kurt was constantly dumping water on himself and people were staying in the shade as much as they could.  That was of course except for Rogue, who stood in the sun for every shot holding the boom.  As far as Kurt figured it, if she were a plant, she would be a cactus.  He hadn't seen her take a water break all day.  

But he didn't have much time to think about Rogue, because he was almost finished setting up the saloon.  This was to be Scott's "entering" scene.  Kitty was standing behind the make-shift bar, pretty in pink and ready to go.  Scott was ostensibly outside, waiting to swing the saloon doors open and come in.  Rogue was holding the boom.  Jean was behind Rogue, observing.  Kurt looked through his little camera and swiveled it on the tripod. He took in Kitty, the wall with the table, and the window which looked out onto the main drag.

Scott was supposed to walk past the window so that Kurt could follow the shot from the window to the door, where the brave sheriff would walk in towards camera.  Everything was set.  Kurt squinted through the eyepiece and hit 'record.'  And nothing happened.  Scott was late.  After a few more silent seconds, he began to lose his patience.  Daylight was burning.

"Keety, do you see him?"

"Uh uh."

"I swear, if that boy's still got the willies after all that work he done yesterday…" Rogue began in a rather threatening tone.

"Take it easy, Rogue," Jean said.

The explosion of noise outside caught everyone off-guard.  There was a lot of incoherent yelling.  It sounded like there was a fist-fight going on.  A mighty wind kicked up and sand blasted through the doors.

"What the---?" Kitty started.

"aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAH!"

*CRASH*

Scott went flying into the set, right through the window.  His entrance was accompanied by a burst of glass shards and he landed in a graceless heap just out of shot.

"Oh my God!" Kitty screamed and ran over to him.  

Kurt hit 'stop' and tried to get to his friend, but the girls were too fast.  Scott was a moaning, bloodied mess, trying to shake off the head-against-glass impact in the safety of Kitty's arms.  She was helping him sit up.  Jean was fluttering around them with the first aid kit.  Kurt couldn't even get close.  The two girls were fussing over Scott and screeching like annoyed parakeets --- and they had plenty to squawk about.  His clothes were ripped, his hat was gone, and he was now sporting a forehead gash that was leaking profusely.  

"Scott!  Vhat happened?"

"Brother … hood…" he mumbled, trying to shake off the dizziness.

"Sons-a-bitches!" Rogue yelled.

She dropped the boom mike, ripped off her gloves, and ran out into the "street."  Jean handed Kitty the first aid kit and followed Rogue.  Kurt ran after both of them and when they all got outside they saw every mutant on site menacing the Brotherhood, who had all shown up in uniform and were looking rather smug.  Pietro, who probably threw Scott through the window with a wind gust, was looking particularly pleased with himself.  

"Get lost, all a ya!" Logan snarled.  "We're tryin' ta work, here!"  

The claws and his definite "authority figure" posture usually got his point across with these guys, but coupled with the cowboy hat it just gave the wrong impression.  The Brotherhood started laughing at him.

"Oh-please!  You-guys-are-so-lame-o!" Pietro said.  "We-just-showed-up-to-see-what-you-X-geeks­-were-cooking-up-and-I-gotta-say… you-suck."

"Oh, like you could do any better!" Evan yelled.

Pietro snorted at him.  "I-could-build-a-better-set-in-six-minutes,-Daniels!  All-I'd-need-to-do-is-tear-this-one-DOWN-first!  Ha!  Whoooaaaa!"

He suddenly found himself twisting around and floating in the air.  Jean was standing there, her hair flaring with power, levitating him.  A quick peek into his thoughts told her exactly what she suspected.  He'd thrown Scott through that window.

Just for that, she let the little bastard dangle for a few more seconds.  Pietro was not amused.

"Put-me-down!  Put-me-DOWN!"

"Oh, I live to serve, you little cockroach!" she shrieked.  

She telekinetically pitched him through the center of town like a softball --- at about 90 miles an hour.  His tinny scream dwindled to a *plip* as he skimmed away and hit the grass three hundred feet from the edge of the set.  Pietro was not built for rough landings.  The impact was too much for him and he passed out.  

Jean dusted off her hands and eyed the other three boys like she was ready to kill any of them.  "Nobody messes with Scott.  Nobody!" she spat.  "Now, who's next?"

Fred and Toad had better self-preservation instincts than Pietro.  They took two steps back.  Waaaaay back.  Lance was the only one standing his ground.  That was of course until the saloon doors swung open.  Scott stumbled out, holding some gauze to his forehead and leaning heavily on Kitty.  

Lance saw Kitty.  Kitty saw red.  She handed Scott off to Kurt and strode up to Lance in her flouncy pink dress, rolling up her delicate lace sleeves.  She didn't stop marching until she was standing right in front of him, white with rage.

"Nice costume," Lance remarked, clearly eyeing her heaving bosom.

Kitty's face twisted into an angry sneer.  She belted him across the face.

"Take a hike, you blockhead!"

Everyone stared at Kitty like she'd lost her mind --- including Lance, who actually put a hand to his cheek and said "Ow!"  But Kitty didn't care.  She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.  Fred and Toad backed away again.  Lance didn't move.  Kitty didn't move, either.  This had turned into a battle of wills.  She pointed off-set and growled, "Leave."  He finally did, followed by his two remaining cohorts.  Everyone watched as they hopped into their jeep and drove off.  They stopped for a second to pick up Pietro and zoomed away.

The set erupted in cheers.  Kitty found herself atop Logan's shoulders, and everyone was yelling and waving hats.  Kurt grinned.  Even Scott managed a dizzy smile and a thumbs-up. 

~ X ~

"Why are we doin' this, again?" Rahne asked, putting in a few more staples on the black drop cloth and wiping some sweat from her face.

"Because it's fun," Amara grunted, stapling her end.  They were making a few more repairs to the Evan Hole across from the saloon.

"Fun?"

"Kviet on za set!" Kurt shouted from the saloon.  They could hear him across the street.

Amara dropped to a whisper.  "Yeah, fun.  You remember that concept, don't you?  Besides, Logan's been so distracted, we haven't had a Danger Room run in a week!"

"Oh yah.  Tha's good!" Rahne whispered back.  Amara got the last staple.

It had been ten minutes since the Brotherhood left and Scott was ready to act some more.  Kurt readied the camera.  "Okay, Scott, go!"

Scott swaggered into the saloon and with the afternoon sunlight spilling in behind him, and stopped for a second.  He looked incredibly brave and sexy, if a little roughed-up.  But he was still dizzy as hell.  Instead of walking directly forward, he sort of weaved to the left and stumbled out of shot.  

"_Gott__ in himmel_," Kurt muttered.  

Kitty bit her lip.  She was trying not to laugh.  Jean meanwhile grabbed Scott and stopped him.

"Scott?  Honey?  How many fingers?" she asked, making a peace sign at him.

"Four," he said, with all the authority he could muster.

"Hoo boy," Kurt said.  "Okay, Scott, I haff an idea.  Let's try ziss."

Kurt could afford to waste no more time.  He decided to have Kitty and Scott take their first scene from Scott on the ground.  Kurt focused the camera on the air above Scott and Rogue held the boom steady.

"Okay Keety, just run into shot ant say za line."

"But Kurt, it's like totally idiotic!" Kitty complained off-camera.

"Trust me, it's okay!" he said, squinting through the eyepiece.  "Just do it!  Action!"

Kitty sighed.  "Okay."  She ran into shot, leaned over and said, "Lord!  Them bandits must be givin' ya a rough time, huh, sheriff!"

"Yes ma'am, they certainly are chafing," Scott said, and picked himself up with a grunt.  

Kurt kept them in a tight two-shot and Kitty began to dust him off.  "Think they've come to raid the bank?"

"Why on earth would they go to the bank, Miss Tina?  There ain't no money in there!"

Kitty sighed.  "I know.  They've made us so poor."  

"Poor?  More like penniless.  Heck ma'am, last time they took the horses!  People gotta walk everywhere in this town!  This is terrible.  I'm a disgrace.  I should be protecting y'all, and I can't do it."  Scott's Missouri non-Southwestern accent added a touch of accidental humor.  His "y'all" was lousy.

"Well, you could if you had a gun."

"Yeah, well, guns have been outlawed in Sandy Gulch for a long time now.  Ever since Mary stepped into the middle of that showdown."

"Poor girl.  What was it?  She was trying to stop her husband from killing her lover?" 

"Yep.  Pretty ironic outcome, if you ask me."

Kitty sniffed a little.  "Yeah, well, Mary's in the graveyard, and this poor town ain't got nothing left to give.  What do you think those dumb bandits have come for this time?"

Scott rubbed the back of his neck.  "I don't know.  Maybe our souls."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Kitty said.  It was supposed to be an eerie, dramatic, "Somehow, I doubt that!" --- but Kitty had been distracted by Bandit Jamie, who was making faces at her through the now empty window frame, and she gave a flat, sarcastic, "Somehow, I doubt that."

Running on zero hours sleep, Kurt did not give a damn anymore who said what or how they said it.  "And … cut!  Print!  Great!  Beautiful job!"

"Thank Gawd!" Rogue said, putting down the mike.  "That thang's been gittin' heavier n' heavier."

She plopped onto a box next to the camera and fanned herself.  On Jubilee's advice, she'd exchanged her all-black ensemble for a poofy green dress, which the other girls insisted matched her eyes.  It kept her covered and cooler, although not much.  

Kurt turned and saw Jean, who was sitting with Scott at the table.  "Hey, Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"Call Logan and za Bandits out to za main strip. I need some dramatic mayhem footage."

"Okay!"

It turned out Logan and the Bandits (bored out of their minds from losing six consecutive rounds of "Go Fish" to Jamie) were only too happy to provide some mayhem, although it wasn't dramatic in the least.  Kurt turned on the camera, pointed at his cast and prayed.  With the one instruction of "be insidiously evil," the Bandits had their work cut out for them.  They responded by running around the main drag and yelling.  Various citizens were dragged in (Jubilee was yanked in from off-screen and Amara and Rahne were ripped away from repairing the Evan hole) and forced to square dance, since the Bandits couldn't find anything suitable to destroy.  

This movie was going to hell in a handbasket.  And Kurt was learning a crushing truth about Logan --- it was possible for the man to look stupid.  He was yelling "Dance, ladies, dance or we'll shoot ya!  Bwa ha ha!" at the top of his lungs.  Sam was waving his gun at the three "ladies", who were skipping around miserably, two of them holding staplers.

Everybody else was standing around watching this and trying not to laugh.  It was pitiful.  

"CUT!" Kurt yelled.  "Okay, zat's it!  Ten minute break."

"Sweet!" Roberto and Ray said together.  

Everyone ran for the food tent, leaving Kurt to stand in the middle of his empty town and sigh.  Rogue, who was finally sipping from a water bottle, threw an arm around her brother.     

"Cheer up, Fuzz.  These folks might have the common sense of a bag a' apples, but ya cain't say it ain't funny."

Kurt started laughing.  

~ X ~

"Why we goin' back, yo?" Toad asked, following a fly from the back seat of the Jeep.

Lance was driving like a man on a grim mission, white-knuckling the wheel and glaring out the windshield.  "Because we have a score to settle.  Specifically with Miss Perfect Jean Grey."  He thumbed at Pietro, who was sitting in the backseat in-between Toad and Fred, looking pretty loopy.  "Ever since she knocked Pietro outta the park, he ain't been right!  And I know a way to settle this with all the X-Geeks at once!"

"Lance, that don't sound like a good idea," Fred said.

"Ooooooh, pretty colors!  Wheeee!" Pietro yelled drunkenly and fell forward in the seat.  Toad yanked him back and put him in a seatbelt, tightly, before he could bash his head into something.

"Would you idiots relax?  I have a plan."

"Ah, dat can't be good," Toad mumbled.

~ X ~

Kurt was less than enthusiastic about filming the last scene, considering it was a crowd scene and the first hadn't exactly been a raging success.  Everyone else was really getting into the spirit, though.  Since the townspeople were going to be ghosts in order to frighten away the Bandits, some students were passing the talcum powder and trying to get as ghostly as possible.  Rogue was standing around with Kitty, getting ready to go.  Amara and Rahne ran by screeching happily, throwing some talcum powder at Jubilee.  

"Man, this film is like, going to hell."

"Well, I'm sure Kurt knows what he's doin'."

"Oh please, Rogue.  Kurt had better be some kind of editor or this movie is like totally going to suck."

Rogue couldn't disagree.  
~ X ~

The last scene didn't disappoint.  Kurt had carefully mapped it out, told everyone what to do, where to stand, how to move, etc.  So naturally it was a complete snafu.

Lance, Toad, and Fred were hiding beyond the rim of the set, adjusting their cowboy hats and smoothing out their jeans.

"DIS is da plan?" Toad snapped.  "Ruining da freakin' movie?  Man, your strategy sucks, yo!"

"I thought you said we were gonna be evil," Fred complained.  "This is…  We're just being annoyin', Lance.  This ain't gonna get no justice for Pietro!"

All three turned and looked their fallen comrade, who was now dangling in his harness with his eyes crossed and drooling.

"We'll start by ruining the movie, and progress to flattening them," Lance said, as though he were explaining this to kindergartners.

"Ohhhhh!" Fred and Toad said, finally getting it.

"As soon as the scene starts and everybody's doing their thing, we'll sneak in and whammo!  Catch 'em all by surprise!"

"Yeah!" the other two cheered.

"For Pietro?"

"For Pietro!"

"All right!"

They got ready.  Back around the front of town, everyone was in position.  

"Okay, stand by!" Kurt yelled.  "Ant … action!"

Logan and the bandits were in the middle of the square, pretending (quite well) to be frightened, while some citizens came in trying to be ghosts.  It wasn't looking that great.  Only three people were covered in talcum powder, but the rest had forgotten this little detail.  They were just making stupid noises and wiggling their hands.  It was so bad that Rogue actually started laughing.  Kurt was annoyed.  He was also exhausted and out of ideas.  With a sigh, he looked through the eyepiece and re-focused the camera.  

And that was when it happened.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!"

Lance, Blob and Toad came charging into the scene, making faces and dancing around like idiots.

"Oh, that's IT!" Scott yelled off-camera.

Kurt heard retreating footsteps (Scott running around behind him) and then approaching stomps and an ear-splitting roar.

Let it be known that the "brave sheriff" threw the first piece of fruit.  It was a banana, and it hit Lance in the face.  Pretty soon the whole "town" was grabbing any food they could get their hands on and throwing it at the Brotherhood.  Logan and the Bandits, caught in the middle, wisely pretended that the fruit was being thrown at them, while attempting to get the invaders off the set.  Ororo and Hank, who had spent most of the day cutting up fruit, were dismayed to see where their hard work was going.  In a few seconds, it was flying everywhere.

"FOOD FIGHT!" Ray hollered.

"Aaaah!" Jean war-cried.  She hurled some orange slices at Lance.  But her aim was off and she hit a Bandit Jamie, who was standing on the 2nd story balcony.  Kurt, by lucky accident, caught the Jamie being hit by the fruit.  The copy put his hand to his heart, pretended to die, and fell off the balcony out of shot, only to evaporate on the sand below.  

More chaos.  More fruit.  More yelling.  (Evan gave some particularly manly roars.)  This went on until Lance saw Scott put his hands to his glasses and charge up.  And that was when he realized that nobody in his little attacking horde was wearing their armor.

"Ah, crap!  RETREAT!" 

The Brotherhood fled.  There was no time to attack, as Logan and the Bandits had them on the run.  The other Institute students ran after them and didn't stop running until all the "Bandits" (including Logan and his brood) had exited the set.  Kurt was wheezing.  He'd run into the fray with his camera and caught it all.  

He panned along his exhausted cast, covered in fruit, and got in close on Scott.  There was a brief pause.

"Yeeee-aaaaah!" Scott yelled, jumping up and waving his hat, and the others joined him in spontaneous celebration.  They even lifted him on their shoulders.

Kurt got this, too.  He let them go on celebrating for a bit, and then he hit "stop" and whistled to get everyone's attention. 

"Everybody, I tank you for your time.  Ant believe it or not … zat's a wrap!"

~ Wanna see if it all comes together?  Then check out Part 5: _The Legend of Sandy Gulch_.  Coming soon to a computer screen near you! ~


	24. I Vant to Direct, Part Five

A quick note: A character from a previous Project: Wagner story shows up at the end of this tale.  If you have not read "Platform 3," I strongly recommend reading that before you read this last bit.

And … here it is!  The end!  It's been a pleasure writing for you all.  I want to give a generalized shout-out to everybody who has read and reviewed this.  You all rock!  Since I'm now posting the last bit of the last story, I will wait a week and see who weighs in.  Then there will be one last chapter of Project: Wagner, with many specific shout-outs, some rambling, and a couple of happy announcements.  Enjoy!

=== **I VANT TO DIRECT** ===

Part 5: _The Legend of Sandy Gulch_

Kurt filmed the professor doing his narration, which thankfully presented no problems, and then spent five nights editing, in between playing catch-up with all his other classes.  If he wasn't working with the footage on his computer, he was pacing around his room muttering to himself.  And if he wasn't pacing, he was doing other homework.    

Finally, the Saturday before the due date arrived.  It was six o'clock in the morning.  The rest of the Institute was asleep.  But Kurt had been up all night putting the finishing touches on his film.  He rubbed his tired eyes, scratched his itchy scalp, and suddenly realized that something strange and wonderful had happened to him.  He was exhausted but elated, completely spent but ready to burst with accomplishment.  

This tizzy of work had come on like a fever.  He had never felt this way before in his life.  It was a passion so strong, so all-consuming, that every other reasonable thing had been put aside.  And it was all because this dinky little film, this glorified English paper, had become so … important.

Lacing his six long fingers behind his head, he leaned back in his computer chair and stared thoughtfully at his desktop, where his film was playing out for the fifth straight time.  The thing made sense --- an achievement in itself.  But beyond that, it actually seemed to be palatable.  His heart thudded with excitement.  Dawn broke outside his window.  Just for a brief moment, he was not Kurt Wagner, X-Man.  He was Kurt Wagner, filmmaker.  Someone with ideas.  Master of his own creative destiny.    

What a feeling.  

~ X ~

Monday came all too soon.  Fourth period began.  Ms. Enkler smiled at her class and said the words that some had been dreading for three weeks: "Papers, please."

A whole stack of thick papers were passed to the front of the room.  And then the teacher smiled again and said the words that others had been dreading for three weeks: "Films, please."

Kurt nervously passed his converted VHS tape forward with the rest of the submissions and glanced at his fellow classmates.  They were all wrecks, bleary-eyed from editing too long and twitching from too much caffeine and stress.  The boys had their shirts un-tucked.  A few girls were sporting glasses instead of contacts, and wore no make-up.  Kurt was as exhausted as they were. His inducer had picked up on it that morning and much to his annoyance his computer-generated eyelids refused to rise above half-mast.  He couldn't look surprised today if the Apocalypse came.

"Okay, everybody!  First off, I'm very pleased with you all.  Secondly, as a reward for completing this big project, we're going to have a treat.  Instead of a lecture, we will watch all the films that were turned in!"

All of the students who had written papers cheered.  All of the "directors" blanched.  Their work was going to be put out and judged by their fellow students.  But Ms. Enkler had wisely brought food.  The microwave in the back of the class was quickly put to work nuking bags of popcorn, and she passed out treats --- Jujubes, Junior Mints, licorice, big bags of Mike and Ike and Hot Tamales, and some Snickers bars. ® 

Kurt munched popcorn, chewed licorice, and watched the films of his compatriots.  Some were amusing, some were dramatic, some were weird, some were intensely bad, and one seemed to be a toothpaste commercial.  But nobody seemed to care about the quality.  Every film got a round of applause.

"And our last film is by Kurt Wagner," Ms. Enkler said.  "Hit the lights, would you, Suzie?"  The girl nearest the wall switch hit the lights.  The teacher popped in the videotape.  The film began to roll.  Everyone applauded.  They'd been getting increasingly enthusiastic throughout the period.  It was mostly due to the sugar.

Kurt crossed himself.

- X - X - X -

The screen was dark, and suddenly there was a thumping Western drum beat.  A guitar began to play a haunting, sultry melody.  Then the "town" slammed into view and the words "The Legend of Sandy Gulch" appeared on the screen.  After a few seconds, the "H" at the end of Gulch swung and fell off the row, and the music crashed to a halt.  (A few girls giggled.)

The camera panned down to Professor X, sitting on a bench outside the "bank" in his Western wear, with a cowboy hat and gray wig covering his bald head.  He smiled at camera.

"Howdy, you all!  My name is Joe," he said crisply.  (Ms. Enkler stifled a laugh.  She'd met the professor once at a parent-teacher conference and recognized him immediately.)  "And this is my town, Sandy Gulch.  Sleepy little pueblo, isn't it?  Well, it wasn't always this quiet.  When I was young, it was quite an exciting place to live."  English accent aside, the professor was doing quite a respectable job.  

The shot dissolved to the "opening scene" Kurt had filmed.  People were smashing into each other like morons and square dancing on the main drag.  This was interspersed with shots of the saloon, the bank, and The Striped Tabby.  Some twangy, fast music was going in the background, and "Joe" was heard as a voice-over.  

"Yes, we were a happy little town."

The senseless dancing continued.  (The class laughed.)  Jamie popped into shot and waved at the camera.

"That's me, by the way.  But Sandy Gulch was not devoid of problems.  Oh, no.  You see, our peaceful little town was constantly being overrun by …"  (Ms. Enkler was smiling.)

Dramatic music kicked in.  Dun dun DUUUN!

"Bandits!"

And the opening scene burst apart at the entrance of Logan and his band.  People screamed and ran every which way, although the shot mostly followed a frightened young woman in a pink dress, who dashed into the saloon.  It completely missed Evan making his hole.  The shot snapped to the close-up of Logan, who thundered, "Citizens of Sandy Gulch, we've come for whatever you've got!  Yeee HAW!"  He fired off his prop gun into the air.  After menacing the camera some more he turned to face someone out of shot.  

The shot switched to Scott, who was standing outside the saloon in his chaps and hat.  It was just a random bit of footage that Kurt had picked up early during the filming, when Scott was still disgusted with the whole idea of being on camera.  The unsuspecting actor put his hands on his hips and angrily stalked off out of shot.  The two combined shots made it look like his character was walking towards the bandits.

"And our brave sheriff wasn't having a whole lot of luck with them."

The shot switched to the interior of the saloon, with a dust cloud building outside the window.

"He tried giving them a stern talking to, but …"

"aaaaaaaAAAAAAH!"

Scott went crashing through the window and landed out of shot.

"It wasn't very effective."  (The class laughed.  Someone yelled "ah yeeeeh!  Go Sheriff!" in the back.)  

The shot shifted.  Kitty ran onto screen, put her hands on her hips and said, "Lord!  Them bandits must be givin' ya a rough time, huh, sheriff!"  She helped Scott up and they launched into the whole "no guns allowed / here's why / they're going to rip us apart / what the hell are we going to do" scene.  

"What do you think those dumb bandits have come for this time?"

"I don't know.  Maybe our souls."

Kitty looked out the window for a second.  The shot immediately cut to the bandits outside, acting like lunatics and forcing Rahne, Jubilee, and Amara to square dance.  Then it cut back to Kitty, who deadpanned, "Somehow I doubt that."

Kitty and Scott went about their business and the professor's voice over came back.

"But this last assault was taking its toll.  Without any means of defending ourselves, we were out of luck."

Scott perked up.

"That was, of course, until our sheriff had a brilliant idea."

"Miss Tina?"

"Yes, Sheriff?" Kitty asked, coming close to him.

"What would you say to a little trickery to end this bandit disaster?"

Kitty smiled shyly.  "Just so long as it ends and you're still here, I'll be happy," she said, and ran a finger gently down his chest.  "You know that."  (Someone said, 'Whoooo!')

Scott smiled and gently drew Kitty into an embrace.  Then he modestly removed his hat and covered both of their faces for a second.  Kurt edited in the kissing noise.  When he put his hat back on, Kitty's cheeks looked like they were on fire.  (Most of the class was giggling.)

"Why I declare, Sheriff!" she said.  "You go get 'em!"

"Aye ma'am!" Scott replied, and left the saloon in a hurry.  "I'll go round up all the other folks."

The next shot was of all the citizens running around in the town square.  Kurt caught Jubilee, Rahne, and Amara running by with the talcum powder, and most people just milling about talking.  The professor's voice was heard.

"Our sheriff's plan was to scare the bandits away by pretending that our town was haunted.  Thus, the talcum powder.  We were all getting ready to disguise ourselves as ghosts and scare them out of their wits when the sun went down. 

Logan and the Bandits came running into view, with the Brotherhood right behind them.  All the townspeople looked shocked and mad. 

"Unfortunately, they were early."

Logan snarled.

The shot cut to the Brotherhood, dancing around in their cowboy hats and making faces at the camera.

"They brought reinforcements." 

The angle widened to catch the whole crowd, and Scott's voice came through loud and clear.

"Oh, that's IT!" he yelled.

"But we had solid leadership.  And lots of fruit."

The food fight began.  It was crazy, loud, and violently colorful.  The reds of apple slices, the yellows of pineapple chunks and the purples of grapes, caught between the swirling skirts of the women and the brown, solid tones of the men's clothing made quite a tableau.  Kurt got several excellent shots of people on both sides taking fruit in the face, and one shot of Evan doing his He-Man impression.  He got the Jamie falling off the balcony.  He did not catch Scott charging up, thankfully, but he caught Lance's reaction.

"Retreat!" the would-be scene-wrecker yelled.  The Bandits made a hasty exit.  

He caught the exhaustion and relief, and finally the celebration.  Scott was held up on the shoulders of about five people and triumphant music started to play in the background.

"The day was saved!  The Bandits, terrified of our willpower and considerable stash of Vitamin C, never returned again."

The music continued to play over a shot of Scott kneeling on the floor and smiling up at camera, which flowed seamlessly into a mistake --- an outtake of Kitty being dramatic and holding her hands over her mouth in shock.

"The Sheriff proposed to Miss Tina…"

The next shot was of Scott and Kitty walking off hand in hand, sillhouetted in the dwindling daylight.  Some people went running into shot waving handkerchiefs as though saying goodbye.  It had come out quite well.  

"And they rode … well, walked … off into the sunset."

The shot dissolved back to "Joe," sitting on his bench.  

"As for the rest of us, we rebuilt our lives and our town.  And that, my friends, is the Legend of Sandy Gulch."

The screen went to black and the same sultry Western tune began to play.  "THE END" showed up in big white letters and some simple credits began to roll.

- X - X - X -

The class went nuts.  Ms. Enkler took out the tape and beamed briefly at Kurt.  And sugar had nothing to do with it.  The bell rang, signaling the end of fourth period.  It was time for lunch.  The lights went up and the students, relieved of their burdens, packed up their things and their movie treats and left, still laughing about Kurt's film.    

Kurt was the last one out.  He was about to walk out the door when there was a sudden pressure on his shoulder.  He froze in fear and turned around, only to see it was just Ms. Enkler's hand.  Fortunately, she'd only touched his shirt.

"Hold up, there, Coppola," she said, with a smile.  "I need to talk to you."

Kurt was bewildered.  Usually when teachers wanted to talk to him, it was about him doing something stupid.  He followed his teacher over to her desk.  She sat down with a grunt and stared off into space for a moment, as if she were trying to figure out what to say.  Then she looked up and regarded him.

"Congratulations, kid," she said finally.  "That's a big fat A, right there.  Great job."

Kurt couldn't think of anything to say, so he just smiled.   

"I want to ask you something.  Every year at the end of June, all the art-focused high schools in upstate New York have a small student film festival called In The Know.  And I was wondering … would you allow me to submit your work?"

Kurt was stunned.  His induced eyelids defied their computer program and went up all the way.

~ X ~

The summer sun beat down on the fields of Ersterweizen, half-swollen with barley and tiny berries.  It was the beginning of July, approaching the peak of the growing season.  Elsa Wagner swiped a hand across her sweaty forehead and wandered through her slightly dusty, comfortable house.  Her husband Gustav was taking a nap in the living room before going out to work again, and if she spent one more second with a thimble on her thumb stitching together her new winter quilt, she would go nuts.  She heard the clack of letters falling through the slot on the door and went to retrieve them.  Kurt had been out of school for a few days and would be coming home in a week to spend the summer, but she was expecting a letter from him and Heinrich, in his usual fashion, was late with the post.  Instead of delivering early in the morning before the sun came out, the fool had slept in until noon and was just getting started.  

So by the time Elsa got to the door and opened it, their ersatz mailman was already on his way, hurrying down the road to make up for lost time.  She wanted to invite him in for some lemonade, but thought better of it.  Whenever Heinrich sat down to chat he tended to complain, and he was very difficult to get rid of.  "Could I have some more lemonade, Elsa?  How about some more of those cookies?"

She bent down and picked up the piles of letters.  There were two bills, a letter from Gustav's mother, who Kurt called "Nana," and a letter from Kurt.

Putting the other letters aside, she sat down to read her son's.  The envelope was heavy, for some reason.  She pulled out the letter and grinned at the unruly scrawl.

_Dear Mamma,_

_Remember when I told you about making that film in English class, with all of my friends at the Institute?  Well, the teacher, Ms. Enkler, entered it in a contest, and look!  I want you to have these, because I'm afraid I'll lose them.  The article is in English, but I translated on the back.  I can't wait to come home and see you and Vati._

_I love you,_

_Kurt_

Elsa emptied the envelope onto the table.  Out tumbled a pair of medals spray painted to look like gold, a photograph, and a bit of newsprint.

"Oh, my!"

The medals said something in English that she didn't understand.  The photo made sense, though.  It was a wide shot of Kurt and most everyone else from the Institute, hanging out on the back lawn.  It looked as though they were in the midst of a big party.  By the date on the back, they were probably celebrating the end of school.  Everyone was holding glasses of punch and toasting the camera.  Kurt had one arm draped around Kitty, who was laughing.  Elsa smiled.  Kurt had made some great friends in America.

The article was short.  It was a blurb from The Bayville News.  She flipped the clipping over to read what her son had translated into German:

_June 31, Ridgemont.__  The winners of the In The Know film contest were announced today at a spectacular reception in the grand ballroom of the House on the Green country club.  Taking first place was John Beaumann, a senior at the prestigious __Ridge__Point__High School__ for the Arts, for his film "Ride."  Taking second place was Natalie Shrubb, a senior at __Fillmore__Girls__Academy__, noted for its film program, with "The Joys of Being Irene."  And a surprising third place was awarded to young Kurt Wagner, a junior at __Bayville__High School__, with his film "The Legend of Sandy Gulch," which also won for Best Comedy._

Elsa sat there for a long time playing with the two medals while she stared at her son's translation.  She had a quilt to make and a husband to inform, but for the moment she was too pleased to move and too proud to think straight.

THE END

~ X ~

I hope you liked this.  I certainly had fun writing it!  Please review and let me know what you thought.  I'll be back in a week with shout-outs, comments, explanations, announcements, etc.  :)

Kiki


	25. ShoutOuts, etc

Hi, Everybody!

First of all, I want to apologize.  I said I'd have this up what, five days ago?  *snorts*   Real life is such a pain in the butt.  But I'm here now!

Secondly, I found out about this rule on FF.net that says you can't have an "Author's Note" as a separate chapter.  There has to be some kind of story in there.  So to make this legit, here is a brief narrative.  Actually, it's more of a stupid, incredibly out-of-character joke.  Enjoy!

~~~

It was past midnight, and the X-Men were back from a mission.  Everyone was cranky and exhausted and cold.  Logan looked around the table and saw Kitty trying to button a sweater over her uniform.  She couldn't get her hands to coordinate and the button wasn't going through the hole.  Logan shook his head and decided Kitty was an idiot.

"Hey everybody, you know why Kitty's eyes are blue?" he asked.

No one asked "why" back, but Logan continued anyway.

"Because her head's full a' air!" he said and laughed at his own comment.

Kitty's big blue eyes welled up with tears.  "You're like way mean!" she bawled.

Kurt glared at Logan and cleared his throat.

"Hey everybody, you vant to know vhy Logan's eyes ah brown?" he asked.

Everyone looked at him, some in outright horror. 

"Because his head iz full of ---"

The End.

~~~

Hey, I said it was a story.  I never said it was a GOOD story.  At least that's out of the way.  

Okay: happy announcement.  I have at least two more Evo things in the works.  

The first is a Professor X story, because there are way too few of those.  He needs a good one and not just something where he as some sort of "brooding" scene.  This man needs something meaty.  Let me summarize it this way: Cheeky Charlie will score again.  If you don't know who Cheeky Charlie is, then read "Red Hot."  And that's all you're getting.  :D

The second story will be, without a doubt, an Epic Kurtty.  I know there are a few Epic Kurtties around, some of them astoundingly good (ParkerFloyd's for example), but I'd like to try my hand at what I see as an established literary genre.  Perhaps it will be awesome.  Perhaps it will crash and burn.  But either way, it's getting written.  ;D

There will probably be something else, too, perhaps even having something to do with Boom Boom.  I don't know.  It's sort of up in the air.  

And now … the shout-out fest!  Yay!  (By the way, these are in no particular order.)

~ X ~

Give it up for my home girl Scrawler, who stuck with me from the beginning of this collection and hung on right to the end.  I thank you for reading and commenting and liking what you read, and I wish you all the luck in the world with your own creative endeavors.  :D

Tainz: You rule.  Thank you so much for your input and support and love.  You are a true original, an excellent writer, and I really enjoy your stuff.  Hope to see more of your Scott X( fic, as morbid as that sounds, 'cuz that thing is rockin' hard.

Jaganashi: First reviewer, and almost the last one, too!  :D  Thanks for your comments and getting the joke on the slash piece.

key: So glad you enjoyed this!  

Sailor X1: I feel so honored to have gotten such nice reviews from such a talented writer.  Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.  

Took-Baggins: You've been so cheerful and friendly and encouraging!  Glad you liked this collection.

Moonshadow 10: Definitely gonna have to write more with fans like you.  So glad you enjoyed.  Thanks for reviewing.  :)

RedLion2: I'm giving you a shout-out 'cuz you're cool and you liked Cheeky Charlie.  Honestly, that was my favorite thing to write.  Thanks for weighing in.

Anacalagon: Shplat!  :D

Banter: Thank you so much for your articulate, friendly, intelligent comments.  Happy to have you along.

roguehobbit: Thanks for all your commentary, particularly on the pieces where I didn't feel very strong, (like the Angst piece).  I am so grateful for your support.

kitsu1: Another Cheeky Charlie fan!  You have some company.  Thanks for reviewing and I'm glad you liked that story.

Raskolion "Rasko" Phoenix: What can I say?  You're smart.  You're sassy.  You say what you think.  And you were so there for me for so much of this that it was scary.  LOL!  I have to read your RahneKurt story.  It sounds very interesting.

Lady Bevier: Thank you so much for your kind words throughout this little literary journey.  Glad my angst piece satisfied (somewhat) and I'm so glad you enjoyed the finale.  I would read your fics to show my appreciation for your reviews, but alas, I know nothing about David Eddings.  But if you write some Evo stuff … LOL   Thanks for everything and take care.

wormmon ABC: Thanks for your enthusiasm.  I'm so happy you enjoyed these stories.  : )

taekwondodo: In all honesty, you annoyed the crap out of me … but in a good way.  Your complaints got me to up the rating and even read some of your works, although I didn't review them.  I probably should have.  So I'll go back and review and put in a few notes for you about things I noticed.  Good luck with your writing.

Fateema: You are so helpful!  I really appreciated all your comments on this collection and the stuff you pointed out on Kül.  Thanks for everything.

Cheesy: You absolutely rule.  Thank you so much for all your comments and funny stories.  Check your inbox.  :D

Shadow-Spider: Thanks so much for your comments.  I'm glad you liked this.  Good luck with your writing!!!

Monogurui-hime: Whoa.  What a compliment!  Thanks.  :)

BoxerMan1: Thanks for stopping by.  I think your fiancée is a very lucky woman.

S.queen: Ah, yes.  The lurker.  hee hee  Well, glad you finally broke your silence in the end, and I'm so pleased you've enjoyed the collection so much.  :0)

Scap: You stayed up all night?  Damn!  Well, I didn't put this in any fics except maaaaaybe Platform 3 if you squint, so here it goes.  *Kurt comes out onto stage, taps the microphone, clears his throat and sings, "Let it be, let it be, let it beeee, let it be … God is always watching, let it beeeeee!"*

Faila Gamgee of Sandy Downs: Your screenname is so cool!  :o)  Thank you so much for your lovely comments and support.  I appreciate it.

Fantasy Cat 1: You never got a plushie?  What an oversight!  *hands you a Kurt plushie*   Kiss it n' love it.  Thanks for reviewing!

Ima Super Mute Ant: I just thought your author name was the bomb.  Thanks for reviewing.  

Appin Took: You printed all this OUT?  oO   I'm blown away.  Thank you.

To everybody else, and that would be:

the person without a bug collection, Zoken, ZOTRM, Neko-Chan4, Wydinel Sheergale, The Logic of Nine, wllw979, indigo, Beryl, Min-kat, Rhona, YT(1), JDH3, Catspook, hnh, NeptuneHelena, Nekoni, Blah, JB, Ophelia, Finding Faith, cygnavamp, Kurtlover2003, Yma, Bearkat, Angel Princess Stephanie, Untamed Butterflyz, Jilly Bean, Alliryan, Arayah, KW_NC fan, Radical-Seto, De-Feeme-O-Da-Night, morgannia, Baubier, Avenging Kitty, Meghan, Princess Insanity, and adopter-as-always

THANK YOU SO MUCH!

I hope I haven't left anybody out.  Because that, my friends, is the end of Project: Wagner.  You've all been so great!  :oD

Kiki

February 5, 2004

:D ~~~


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